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It is truCj Ruthj I was in G-od’s hands, and He has brought me back 
to you. jjjg Jewels.— p. 142. 




HIS JEWELS; 




.jTi /S. Z „„ 

* 01^1 

^ Steg of itfto ^ttglanit in War ifimt. 


FOUNDED ON FACTS. 


“ Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another : and the 
Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written 
before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. 

“ And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I 
make up my jewels ; and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son 
that serveth him.” — Malachi, hi. i6, 17. 


■s 


J 


WRITTEN FOR THE CONGREGATION.iL SABBATH-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING 
SOCIETY, AND APPROVED BY THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION. 




BOSTON: 


CONG. SABBATn-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY. 
Depository, 13 Cornhill. 

1868. 


» ' 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
M. II. SARGENT, Treasurer, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the District of 
Massachusetts. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I. Jewels in the Mine ... 5 

II. Ruth 18 

III. A Jewel Found . . . . 27 

IV. One is Taken., the other Left . . 33 

V. The Cutting Tools .... 42 

VI. In The Lord'^s Hand . . .51 

VII. Miss Crosby, the Orderly Sergeant 61 

VIII. Jenny'^s Letter 66 

IX. The Departure of the Regiment . 72 

X. Works Without Love . . .82 

XI. Jenny'^s Illness .... 93 

XII. News fro7n the Seat of War . .100 

XIII. Ruth finds out what the Lord will 

Have Her Do .... 106 

XIV. The Soldiers'^ Aid Society . . 114 

XV. She speaketh ofteji^"' of His Love 130 

XVI. Home from the War . . .141 

XVH. Another Jewel for His Crown . 154 

XVHI. A Dull Jewel 16 1 

XIX. The Accidejit 172 

XX. Old Mary’s Cottage . . . .182 

XXI. Ruth’s Story . . . .. . 195 


iv Contents. 

PAGE. 

XXII. Newport 202 

XXIII. Music I the Air . . . . 213 

XXI F. What is worth living for? . . 226 

XXV. The New Birth — Another Jewel is 

Foiuid 236 

XXVI. He Watcheth over His Own . . 247 

XXVII. Jenny's Diary .... 267 

XXVHI. Two are Better than One . .271 


ms JEWELS. 


Chapter I. 



JEWELS IN THE MINE. 

“ Have I not shunned the path of sin, 

And chosen the better part ? ” 

What voice came through the sacred air ? — 

My child, give me thy heart.” 

ELL, Ruth Campbell, if you go to 
the prayer-meeting on such a night 
as this, I shall give you credit for 
being a little more of a goose than I ever 
did before ! ” 

"But it is such a little way, and Mr. 
Stedman said he wanted all the young 
people to come,” responded Ruth. 

"I should like to know if you are going 
to be at Mr. Stedman’s beck and call ! I 
am sure I am not, any way ; I am not going 
to prayer-meetings and have girls say I am 


( 5 ) 


6 


His Jewels, 


getting serious- The other night I went, 
and I was so sleepy I kept gaping; and 
you know when one gapes, one’s eyes 
often fill with tears ; and that old Miss Haw- 
kins looked at jne so symphathizingly, as 
much as to say, 'There goes another con- 
vert!’ She saw the, tears, and not the 
yawn, you know.” 

Just at this moment William Campbell, 
Kuth’s elder brother, entered the room, hat 
in hand, • saying, " Why girls I none of you 
going to church to-night? I thought I was 
going to have some company,” in a cheery 
tone ; for he was not one of those who be- 
lieve in drawing down their faces whenever 
religion T^as spoken of, but one of those 
happy every-day Christians who make their 
religion felt in their homes like the sunshine. 

It was not strange that they felt the con- 
tagion, and in a few moments they were 
equipped and ready for their walk; even 


jewels m the Mine, 


7 


Jenny Mortimer, who had hardly done rid- 
iculing it, was taken by surprise at the 
voice and manner, when she thought her 
iutrenchments strongest. 

It was truly a wild night. The stars had 
all hidden their faces behind the threatening 
clouds, and the wind blew as if it had concen- 
trated all its forces for the last time, and had 
but a few minutes in which to execute its 
work. Borne on the wind came the last strokes 
of the tolling bell \ the chapel lights shone 
out on the snow, and cast a light like a glory 
on the columns of the old church beside it. 

They entered the chapel, which was al- 
ready well filled, notwithstanding the sever- 
ity of the weather without. There was aii 
earnest purpose in many of those hearts, — 
there was a storm raging within them fiercer 
than the storm without. They knew that 
Christ would be there, and they had come 
to ask him to still this tehipest. 


8 


His jewels. 


"Old men and children, young men and 
maidens,” were all gathered there to hear 
the word of the Lord. 

The youthful preacher arose and gave out 
the hymn commencing, — 

“ Jesus, lover of my soul, 

Let me to thy bosom fly. 

While the billows near me roll. 

While the tempest still is nigh.” 

As the grand old notes of Pleyel’s Hymn 
swelled on the air above the wild sound 
of the wind and the rain, it seemed as if the 
room were an emblem of the quiet haven 
into which Jesus was waiting to guide their 
souls. 

Outside, beaten by the storm and blown 
by the winter wind, was passing a poor 
outcast of humanity; as the words reached 
her ears, with a look of wonder she paused. 
"'Jesus, lover of my soul!’ — whose soul 
does that mean? 'Other refuge have I 


yewels in the Mine, 


9 


none.’ It must be for . me,’’ she said 
aloud, and turned the handle to enter. She 
crept into a seat by the door and bowed her 
head on her hand, then let the strains of 
music sweep through her soul. 

Some of the people looked in wonder at 
the crouching form, and the proud girl be- 
side her gathered the folds of her dress 
away from her rags ; but she heeded it not, 
for Jesus had seen her, and she had taken 
hold of the hem of his garment. 

The music died away, and the minister’s 
voice was raised in prayer. He prayed for 
the wandering lambs and outcast ones, — 
that they might all be brought into the fold. 
He -prayed for those who, through fear of 
death, had all their lifetime been subject to 
bondage f and for the penitent ones. He 
knew not that even then God’s angels were 
rejoicing over a sinner who had repented 
in that very room that stormy night. He 


lO 


His Jewels, 


prayed for the aged who were so near home, 
and for the young who were just beginning 
life’s battles. 

The prayer rose to heaven, and the eler- 
gynian opened the Bible to read. The white- 
haired deacon sat leaning on his stalf ; the 
light from the shaded lamp shone on the 
Bible and rested like a halo upon the old 
man’s white head, making it shine as with 
a crown of glory. 

"Then they that feared the Lord spake 
often one to another; and the Lord heark- 
ened and heard it, and a book of remem- 
brance was written before him, for them 
that feared the Lord and that thought upon 
his name.” "And they shall be mine, saith 
the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make 
up my jewels ; and I will spare them as a 
man spareth his own son that serveth him.” 

Then the preacher went on to describe 
the Lord’s jewels ; where they were to be 


yewels in the Mine, 1 1 

found, how they were gathered out of every 
kindred and tongue on the earth, and how 
those that often seemed dull to us shone 
bright to those hi heaven. As he described 
how the Lord heard every word his children 
spoke out of love to him and his cause, 
and wrote the names of such down in his 
book, there were many tearful eyes in the 
house ; and when he went on to speak of 
the hard cutting and polishing some of these 
jewels must receive before they are^fit for 
the Master’s treasury, the old man looked 
up at the inspired preacher with a look of 
awe, and a light in his eyes which seemed 
to say, — "Yes, it is all so, pure solid 
truth; I have felt the cutting, and I am 
ready to bear more, only that I may be fit 
for the Master’s use.” 

Jenny Mortimer looked on the scene in 
wonder. She had never before seen strong 
hearts touched as they were to-night. 


12 


His Jewels, 


The text preached from the Sabbath before 
came up to her mind : " The wind bloweth 
where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound 
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh 
nor whither it goeth ; so is every one that 
is born of the spirit,” 

An invisible something seemed to be mov- 
ing all hearts, and she felt her own heart al- 
most softening beneath the sweet influences. 
She had an artist-soul within, and she could 
not help admiring the beautiful pictures be- 
fore her, — of the white-haired old man, at 
the feet of the youthful preacher, drinking 
in what was to him more than the breath 
of life. 

She tried to turn her thoughts from the 
words, and place the picture in her mind for 
one of her future sketches. It had been her 
favorite theory, that religion was only to be 
found in all things that were lovely and beau- 
tiful ; ill lofty strains of music, and in sub- 


jewels in the Mine, 


13 


lime scenery ; in poetry and in painting ; and 
she was struggling with this thought to-night. 
It seemed to her for the first time as if her 
heart lacked something. 

Ruth’s face was bathed in tears ; the 
thought had come to her, ” What if my name 
should not be in the 'book of remembrance’ ! 
I have not spoken of the Lord, or feared 
him, or thought upon his name; I have 
been all bound up in myself and- my own 
concerns : can God be merciful to such a 

sinner as I am?” 

» 

She had tried at first to keep back the 
tears, and in every possible way to divert her 
mind from the preacher’s words, but it was 
in vain. She was unwilling her friend Jenny 
should see her tears at first, but she soon lost 
all this feeling in the one absorbing subject, 
and seemed to feel herself alone with a re- 
proachful Saviour. 

The aged deacon rose to speak after the 


14 


His Jewels, 


pastor had taken his seat ; he had to lean on 
his staff, and his voice was trembling and 
husky, but he said he must speak a word for 
Jesus, who had been his captain forty years. 
His soul had suffered shipwreck, and the 
waves and billows were swallowing him up, 
when the voice of Jesus sounded and the 
waves were still. He took the proffered 
hand and was lifted safe into the boat. He 
had suffered many storms since, but he had 
not loosened his hold of that hand, and now 
he was nearing the haven and the harbor- 
lights were already glimmering in the dis- 
tance. Before he cast anchor he must say a 
word to such as were perishing, and who 
would not listen to the voice of the Saviour ; 
and then he gave such an earnest appeal, 
that, when he sat down, his trembling voice 
had failed him, and most all faces were wet 
with tears. 

After the benediction, the pastor asked 


yewels in the Mine, 


15 


those who were seeking to he found among 
the jewels of the Lord, and longing that 
their names might at last he written in " the 
hook of remembrance,” to remain for a few 
moments, that he might converse with them 
alone. 

There was a struggle in Euth’s heart ; it 
was just what she wanted to do, but how 
could she before Jenny? it would be confess- 
ing herself among those seeking the Lord; 
and the tempter whispered in her ear, "Of 
what use will it be ; you have your Bible at 
home, and that is enough to teach you?” 

Just then, one of Euth’s young friends, 
and one of the Lord’s own children, noticing 
her hesitation, stopped to speak to her. 

" Do stay, Euth ; I know it will make you 
happier to stay ; and I will stay with you, if 
you want me to.” 

The Spirit of the Lord conquered the voice 
of the tempter, and Euth waited. How little 


i6 


His Jewels, 


we realize what good a few encouraging 
words for the Lord’s cause may do ! Who 
doubts that the Lord himself hearkened and 
heard this ? 

Jenny looked at Euth with a little surprise, 
but there was no contempt mingled with it ; 
so Euth’s fear of man was, after all, ground- 
less, as it generally is. 

Euth was not alone among those who staid 
to hear more of the soul’s salvation : there 
were many of her young friends ; some of 
those even whose worldly contempt she had 
most feared when she decided to remain. 

With gentle persuasive words, after the 
pattern of the Master, the under shepherd 
sought to win these lambs to the fold — not 
with threatenings or promise of reward, but 
by telling them of the love of Jesus, and 
how they were to come to him just as they 
were ; for he had been long waiting for them 
and was at the door of their hearts even 
then. 


Jewels in the Mine, 17 

After singing the hymn commencing, — 

“Just as I am, without one plea, 

Save that thy blood was shed for me. 

And that thou bids’t me come to thee. 

Oh ! Lamb of God, I come, I come.” 

Then Euth, with the others, very unwill- 
ingly turned to leave, for it seemed like the 
gate of heaven. 

The first biting wind brought her back to a 
realizing sense that she was still In the world, 
and that her battles were yet to be fought ; 
but the new hope just awaking within her 
heart lighted her way and went before like 
the Star of Bethlehem, for she was seeking 
to find where Jesus lay. 


2 


Chapter II. 


RUTH. 

“ Oh ! soon, to me, may summer suns 
Nae mair light up the morn ; 

Nae mair to me, the autumn •winds, 

WaTe o’er the yellow corn ; 

And, in the.narJow house of death, 

Let winter round me rave ; 

And the next flowers that deck the spring 
Bloom on my peaceful grave.” — Bums. 

Camj)bell and her brother were 
orphans. Judge Campbell, their 
father, had come over from Scotland m 
youth, to try his fortunes in the ” New 
World.’’ He brought with him his "High- 
land Mary,” whose cheeks were rosy with 
Scottish bloom and whose laughter rang like 
a silver bell through her native greenwood ; 
but the rough New-England climate faded 
her roses, and made the bell tones of her 
voice harsh. They took her back to her 

native home ; but it was too late, and 

( 18 ) 


Ruth, 


19 


” Death's untimely frost nip’t his flower,” 
and Mr. Campbell had to leave her silent 
dust on the Scottish shore, while he re- 
turned in sorrow to the two children left 
behind him. They were too young to un- 
derstand the full extent of their sorrow, 
William being about flve, and his sister 
Euth three years old. 

The home William Campbell had chosen 
was in one of the suburban towns of the city 
of Boston, that he might be near the English 
friend who had offered him a partnership in 
his law business. 

His house was covered with vines running 
over its balconies and piazzas, and a green 
lawn lay in front; while behind rose a hill 
covered with a grove of trees and spread 
with a soft carpet of pine. A little stream 
threaded its silvery way through the flelds at 
a little distance from the house ; losing itself 
sometimes in a little hollow, and then gleam- 


20 His Jewels, 

ing in the sunlight again through the trees 
beyond. 

Every thing indoors showed the presence 
and taste of the mistress. The parlor opened 
into a conservatory which looked out upon 
the sunny lawn. This room was always full 
of the perfume of flowers, and the music of 
birds, summer and winter, mingled with the 
cool sound of the plashing fountain, which 
stood in the centre dashing its spray over the 
broad leaves of the callas planted around its 
base. 

In winter the logs were piled up in the 
open fire-place, and crackled and blazed 
through the long evenings. The walls were 
hung with pictures, mostly of Scottish lake 
scenery, painted by Mary Campbelfs own 
hand, and draped with fringe-like moss gath- 
ered in the woods near her home. Her harp 
stood in one corner, near a library of care- 
fully selected books. 


Ruth, 


21 


It was to this home that William Campbell 
had to return alone. The children were 
watching at the window for his coming, and 
straining their ears to catch the first sound of 
his footfall. 

Little Euth knew her mamma was dead, 
but she had never seen any one die. She 
had been told that when they did die, they 
changed into beautiful angels ; 'and she 
thought her papa would bring her home with 
him. She knew she should never see her 
real mamma again, but she did not expect 
the sudden disappointment which came to 
her as her father entered the gate alone. 
She went with slower steps than her wont, 
and with quivering lip she faltered, as he 
took her in his arms, "Papa, where is my 
angel mamma ? 

" Why, Euth,” said Willie, "mamma is an 
angel up in the sky ; she can’t come home.” 

This unexpected query of little Euth’s al- 


22 


His Jewels. 


most unnerved the strong man’s heart. As 
the whole truth began to dawn on Euth’s 
mind, she sprang from him with one wild cry 
and fled through the house. She threw her- 
self down in a little corner of her garden, 
and sobbed as if her heart would break. 

His personal sorrow in coming back was 
almost forgotten in trying to soothe his chil- 
dren’s passionate grief. He brought his 
child into the house, and laid her on her bed, 
and* talked to her gently, and told her, the 
messages her mamma had left for her, and 
how she was a beautiful angel and would be 
with her still and watch over her, although 
she could not see her. 

The little heart' was finally soothed by 
the gentle tones of her father’s voice, and 
the sobbing grew less frequent, until she 
finally slept. Then he went down stairs 
to his other child. Mary’s harp stood there 
just where she had always kept it, but she 


Ruth, 


23 


had a golden harp now. Why should he 
mourn? for the bird voices she heard the 
angel tongues ; and for the light of the sun, 
she had the Lamb, who is the light of the 
city. 

It was long before Mr. Campbell could 
rally his feelings, but for the sake of his 
children, he finally went back to his business. 

Ruth had such curious unchildlike fancies 
about angels and heaven, that he felt some- 
times a superstitious fear that she too would 
leave him, and it was really sometimes a 
relief to him when she behaved badly, and 
showed herself to be human. She was al- 
ways wanting her governess to make paper 
wings for her, and she would sit at the ^ 
dinner-table perched up in her little high 
chair with her shoulder winged with the 
last night’s "Journal,” looking, in her golden 
hair, just like a little cherub in embryo. One 
day she sat on the fender, and as she turned 


24 


His Jewels, 


around suddenly, her wings were just going 
into the blaze, when Willie, opening the door, 
rushed, caught her away, and the wings were 
only scorched; but, as Ruth afterward told 
her papa, she might have been a real angel 
in a minute, only her darling Willie caught 
her. Poor little thing ! she was never so near 
being ah angel before. 

Years passed on; the young lawyer be- 
came a distinguished judge, and Ruth grew 
up to be a tall and graceful girl; while her 
brother was yearly receiving new college hon- 
ors, and gladdening the hearts of all those 
who loved him by his firm adherence to 
truth and virtue. 

Just at this time, when life was again 
beginning to have somewhat of its old charm 
for Mr. Campell ; when the young girl’s sing- 
ing " seemed to him like her mother’s voice 
singing in Paradise,” and he was planning 
out aid for his son in the brilliant career 


Ruth. 


25 


opening before him, death entered the happy 
home again, and William and Euth were 
left orphans ; but ”the Lord took them up.” 

A dear friend of Judge Campbell’s, a poor 
widow whom he had often assisted, was found 
willing to come, with her daughter, an old 
beloved school-mate of Euth’s, to keep house 
for them. Mrs. Mortimer was a true woman 
and a sincere Christian, and her daughter 
Jenny we feel as if we knew already, from 
meeting her at the evening service. Jenny 
Mortimer was poor, but, like' the wise woman 
of the Scripture, she worked willingly with 
her hands, and supported herself by her labor 
as an artist ; and, disregarding her own pov- 
erty, gave freely to those who were poorer. 
Notwithstanding, her weariness from a long 
day’s labor, she would often go and watch 
over some sick woman, in a dark garret, 
the whole night. She would buy little lux- 
uries for the poor girls wasting away in 


26 


His Jewels, 


consumption, and deny herself what others 
would consider necessaries. She seemed 
like one of the Lord’s own jewels. She 
had had cutting and polishing, but the jewel 
shone only with its own light. !No ray from 
above had yet illumined it. The ray was 
on its way which was to bring out the hidden 
light, as the light of some stars does not 
reach our earth for ages> but is nevertheless 
on its way and in the Lord’s own hand. 


Chapter III. 


A JEWEL FOUND. 



‘ Baise up thine eyes, be strong ; 

Nor cast away 

The crown that God has given 
Tljy soul to-day.” — Miss Procter. 


f FTEE the evening service, Euth did 
not turn, as usual, to talk with the 
family, but, saying good-night, took her lit- 
tle candle and went up to her room with a 
stronger purpose in her heart than ever be- 
fore. She was resolved to give herself 
wholly and unreservedly to the Lord, and to 
keep nothing back. Closing the door, she 
laid away her shawl and hat ; and then, tak- 
ing her Bible in her hand, knelt on the floor 
by her bedside. She prayed long and ear- 
nestly, and the tears ran down her cheeks 
like rain ; she pleaded the Lord’s promises. 


( 27 ) 


28 


His Jewels. 


the prayers of her departed father and moth- 
er, and the blood of Jesus more than all. 

The only object in her mind was to obtain 
salvation by Christ’s love. All other things 
were forgotten. She did not hear the strains 
of the evening hymn, in which her voice was 
wont to mingle ; she did not heed the storm 
beating against her window panes. Christ 
was passing by, and she must touch the hem 
of his garment before he left her. She knelt 
and besought him that she might be healed. 

She arose, calm and comforted, and opening 
her Bible, her eyes fell on the words, "Peace 
be unto you ! ” It seemed as if Jesus him- 
self had spoken to her, and the peace came 
welling up in her heart. It was the most 
joyful moment in her life, and she laid her 
head on her Bible on her little table, and tried 
to realize the fulness of her joy. She ha 
opened the door, and Christ had entered 
" Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and 


A yewel Fo^nd, 


29 


to the Holy Ghost, as it was in the begin- 
ning, is now, and ever shall be. Amen.” 

As she sat there thinking, she heard her 
brother’s step in the hall. In a moment she 
rose to meet him, and he paused as he saw 
her coming : ” Oh, Willie, I am so happy ! 
I am sure Jesus loves me and has taken me 
as his child ! ” Her brother clasped her in his 
arms, and bent over lovingly. " I bless the 
Lord, Kuth, from the bottom of my heart ; and 
now let us help each other fight the world’s 
battles, and by and by we shall all be at home 
together in heaven — father, mother, Ruth, 
and I. It is so good to hear you say this 
that I can hardly believe the words. I have 
so often longed and prayed for it, and now 
the Lord has heard me. Let us thank him 
together, and serve him together ! ” 

The next morning shone clear and bright 
over the gleaming snow ; and the sky beamed 
with a blue light through the frosted win- 


30 


His Jewels, 

dows. The trees and bushes were laden with 
snow ; and the little snow-birds hopped about 
here and there, beneath their arched palaces. 

The wind which had raged all night, had 
like a wild beast retired to its covert at 
the first .gleam of the sun ; and now every 
thing was beautiful in its purity and stillness. 

As Euth threw open her window and 
looked out, it seemed as if the day was an 
emblem of the peace and rest God had given 
to her heart. A new life was begun in her 
soul ; and she prayed to him to perfect it, 
until she should be called to her "long home.” 

She went to call Jenny and tell her the 
gladness of her heart. "Oh! Jenny, is not 
this morning just as beautiful as it can be ? 
and Jenny dear,” she whispered, as she put 
her arm around her, " do you know there has 
been just such a change in my heart since 
yesterday ? My sins were as scarlet, and he 
has begun to make them as white as snow. 


A Jewel Found. 


31 


Jenny looked at her wonderingly and said, 
”I am glad for your sake, Eutli, but I really 
do not understand you at all; I thought 
you always the very goodest girl I knew,” 
she added laughingly. 

” Oh ! Jenny ; but it is not that,” exclaimed 
Euth; "I was not good and pure in God’s 
sight ; and I did not love him at all for his 
goodness to me. I had never given my 
heart to him, and never repented of my 
sins. Jesus had waited for me all these 
long years, and I had never been willing 
to receive him, even though he had died 
for me,” she added after a short pause ; 
and the tears filled her eyes at the thought 
of her ingratitude. 

"Well, Euth,” responded Jennie, "I can- 
not quite agree with you, but I hope you 
will not be any better than you were before, 
for you were a great deal too good then.” 

Euth looked sadly at Jenny and said, 


32 


His Jewels. 


"I am sure the Lord will show you the 
truth, if you only ask him to teach you. 
If you would only love him with me, I 
should be happier than ^words can tell.” 

" I believe breakfast is ready, Euth,” said 
Jenny, anxious to turn the subject. 

It was a chill on Kuth’s heart so lately 
warmed with Christ’s love. Poor little one I 
she has much to learn. The seed has some- 
times to be sown, and watered for years, 
before the Lord giveth the increase. Pray 
on, and wait Euth, for "He that goeth 
forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, 
shall doubtless come again rejoicing, bring- 
ing his sheaves with him ; ” and although 
you may weary with waiting, while you sow 
and water, God sees you, and hears you, 
and writes your name down in the book 
of his remembrance. 


Chapter IV. 



ONE IS TAKEN THE OTHER LEFT, 

“ When all within is peace, 

How nature seems to smile ! 

Delights that never cease, ' 

The livelong day beguile. 

From morn to dewy eve, 

With open hands she showers 
Fresh blessings^ to deceive 
And soothe the silent homrs. — Cowper. 


^UTH soon joined the others at the 
breakfast table. The room never 
looked so bright and cheery before. The 
sun shone aslant on the table, the bright 
coals gleamed in the grate, and Pedro, the 
greyhound, leaped from the rug to give her 
his morning gi’eeting. The door was open 
into the parlor, where the birds were carol- 
ing, and the flowers were blooming full of 
freshness and beauty. 

” What a bright . happy world this is I ” 


3 


( 33 ) 


34 His Jewels, 

thought Euth, as she took her seat at the 
table. 

The little tea-urn sent up its column of 
vapor, and the amber tea perfumed its way as 
it flowed down into the white china cups. 
The golden corncake, the rich sirup, and the 
heahji-giving oatmeal were all there. The 
trencher with the white loaf of bread on it, 
and the words carved round the edge, " Give 
us this day our daily bread,” arrested Ruth’s 
eyes, as she sat down near it. "He gives it 
to us,” she thought to herself; "I wonder I 
never thought of it before. It always used 
to seem to me as if we were only demanding 
one of our rights when I used to read it, but 
it is really a free gift, that and every thing 
else I have.” 

When they were half through breakfast, 
the door opened, and Bridget, the cook, 
looking in, said : 

"An’ if it would plaze yer honor, Mr. 


One is taken ^ the other left 35 

William, there is a small boy in the kitchen 
who is afther yers, and wants to spake to 
yers. I can’t lave the churnin’, or I would 
have stopped to har the whole of his tark.” 

" Tell him to come in here, Bridget,” said 
Euth. . 

In a minute or two the boy appeared. 
"Please, sir,” he said, twisting his hat in his 
hand, "the deacon’s very sick, and he is all 
the time asking for you, sir. Mother is 
nursing up there, and she thought maybe it 
would not be asking too much of you to go 
and see him a minute. She is afraid it will 
be all up with him before long.” 

"I will certainly come,” replied William; 
" I am much obliged to you for commg and 
telling me.” 

"I am so surjDi’ised,” said Jenny; "he 
looked so well the other night at meeting.” 

"Yes,” responded William, " he is a good 
friend to us all, and we shall all miss him 


36 


His Jewels, 


sadly; but I am sure there was never a 
saint more ripe for heaven, and it would be 
cruelty to keep him if we could.” 

Euth, as they were speaking, noticed the 
boy’s eager looks at the plate of muffins, and 
interposed, — 

” Here, Johnny, wont you stop a minute, 
and have one of these muffins ? ” 

"No, thank you, Miss Euth,” replied 
Johnn}^, but not without an eager look, 
which he tried in vain to conceal. 

Euth laughed and said, "Johnny, Pm 
afraid you never read the story about 
Isaac Hopper and the apple-pie. You 
just sit down here, and eat this muffin I 
will butter for you, and while you are eat- 
ing it, I will tell you.” 

"You are so good. Miss Euth,” murmured 
Johnny, as he very willingly did what she 
told him. " The muffin will be good enough 
of itself, but with a story beside, I can’t 
say no.” 


One is taken^ the other left, 37 

"Well, Johnny,” continued Ruth, "when 
Isaac was a little boy, his mother sent him 
some distance of an errand. When he got to 
the house, the family were sitting at supper, 
and there were several pies on the table. 

One of them asked him to take a piece. 
They looked very temptingly, but he was 
shy, and not daring to say yes, replied, 
"No, I thank you.” The family were 
quakers, who understood yes to mean yes, 
and no to mean ?^o, so did not ask him ^ 
again. He was very sorry for his answer, 
but not being sufficiently bold 'to ask again, 
he started for home. The pie seemed better 
and better, and he more foolish, the farther 
he went ; so, finally, with a brave effort, he 
turned back, and, walking into the house, 
went bravely up to the table and said : " I 

told a lie when I was here; I did want a 
piece of pie.” His confession made them 
all laugh, and they gave him as much pie 
as he could eat.” 


38 


His Jewels, 


" That’s a very nice story,” said Johnny, as 
Euth ceased spealdng ; ” and there’s one thing 
I know, I am glad of, and that is that you 
are not a quaker.” 

Breakfast over, William and Euth went 
back with Johnny to the deacon’s house, 
Jenny to her morning labor, and Mrs. Mor- 
timer to her household duties. 

After an exhilarating ride over the spark- 
ling snow, William and his sister reached 
the house of old Deacon Howell. It seemed 
so hushed and still as they entered, they 
feared that they were too late and should 
never look upon the old man’s face again ; 
but in a moment Nurse Williams came down 
stairs to them. 

" This is very kind of you, Mr. Campbell,” 
she said, as she took his hand ; ” of you also. 
Miss Euth,” she added; ”he is still alive, 
and oh ! it is such a blessed scene ; Mr. Sted- 
man is there with him now. Will you come 
up?” 


One is taken^ the other left, 39 

William and Euth followed her ' to the 
silent room. It was not like the chamber 
of death, but the gate of life. The minister 
was praying for the soul of the dying saint, 
whose eyes were closed, and an expression 
of ineffable peace rested on his face. When 
they had seen him last he seemed well and 
strong, and the chapel picture was still fresh 
in their minds. 

The minister’s voice ceased, and the old 
man opened his eyes, saw his two young 
favorites beside him, and' smiled as he tried 
to reach out his hand to them. Euth ar- 
rested the painful movement and laid her 
hand with her brother’s on his. She leaned 
over him and whispered, 

”Mr. Howell, I have done what you 
wanted me to do. I have tried to give my- 
self to the Lord. A heavenly smile passed 
over the old man’s features as he murmured, 

" Blessed be his name ! ” Another jewel for 


40 


His Jewels, 


the Lord’s treasury. The effort of speaking 
exhausted him, and holding both their hands 
in his, he fell asleep. 

These were his last words. Before they 
lifted their hands, his spirit passed to God 
who gave it. 

“ Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep, 

From which none ever wakes to weep ; 

A calm and undisturbed repose, 

Unbroken by the dread of foes.” 

His last words were for Jesus, and his 
whole life had been a sermon. He had 
spoken often to those who loved the Lord, 
and had caused many a dim jewel to shine 
brighter through his ministrations, blest by 
the grace of God. i 

The earthly crown of glory lay like shin- 
ing silver on the pillow. His spirit was 
wearing a golden crown, which fadeth not 
away; which had long been reserved in 
heaven for it. 


One is taken^ the other left, 41 

There were no tears in the old man^s room 
after the friends left, for it seemed a sacrilege 
to drop a tear there, where the old man had 
entered the harbor of heaven, and where the 
angels had been watching day and night these 
last days. 

One was taken, and the other left. One 
jewel tried and cut, washed from the earth- 
dust and chiselled by sorrow, perfected by 
the great Master Workman, was taken; the 
other just found in the mine, just beginning 
to beam, with all the cutting and chiselling 
yet to be done before it should be fit for the 
Master’s crown. 


1 


Chapter V. 


THE CUTTING TOOLS. 



“Has feto o’erwhelmed thee with some sudden blow? 
Let thy tears flow ; 

But know, when storms are' past, the heavens appear 
More pure, more clear ; 

And hope, when farthest from their shining rays, 

For brighter days.” 


^UTH was dusting the parlor, Jenny 
was in her little studio, painting, 
and Mrs. Mortimer was giving her daily 
directions to the cook, when the door was 
suddenly flung open and William rushed in, 
with a face flushed with excitement, and an 
open paper in his hand. "Fort Sumpter’s 
captured !” he muttered between his closed 
teeth. Euth dropped the vase she was dust- 
ing, on the floor, and took the paper from 
her brother’s hand. 


William’s unusual tones and the sudden 

( 42 ) 


The Cutting Tools, 


43 


slam of the door, brought the rest of the 
family in to discover the source of excite- 
ment. 

"What is the matter? ” asked Mrs. Morti- 
mer, coolly. 

"Matter!” repeated he, sullenly; "noth- 
ing, only Fort Sumpter’s taken;” and his 
voice grew husky as he spoke ; " and there is 
going to be the greatest war this country ever 
saw, and if I stay still at home it will be be- 
cause ' — ” As he spoke his eye fell on Euth, 
who had dropped the paper and was looking 
at him as the sick man looks at the doctor 
who has just told him there is no hope of his 
life. 

He repented of speaking so hastily, and 
went over to her and tried to pour oil on the 
wound he had so thoughtlessly inflicted. 

Bridget, who was looking in at the open 
door, with a flushed face, began to think 
matters were getting serious. 


44 


His Jewels, 


” An’ shure ! ” she said, " an’ ain’t it all 
along o’ them shameless nagurs ? An’ didn’t 
the praste say, the last blessed Sabbath, that 
there would be a big war along of ’em yet, 
and they was all a-coming to drive us from 
our rightful positions ? In faith, I wouldn’t 
live with ’em if they would give me lave.” 

Bridget’s words did what William’s could 
not do. As she stood, there brandishing her 
arms, and groaning between every word, they 
forgot, for a moment, the real seriousiless of 
the matter. Kuth looked up and smiled, in 
spite of herself. 

" Why, Bridget ! ” said Jenny ; ” you were 
talking about going to heaven the other day ; 
don’t you suppose there will be any negroes 
there ? ” 

” Nagurs with us in the blessed paradise ! 
Why, Miss Jenny ! An’ ye would not be 
afthur a-being so disrespecful as arl that. 
Didn’t I hear Miss Euth say, only yester- 


The Cutting Tools, 45 

day, that in heaven there are many mansions? 
an’ don’t that prove there will be separate 
ones for them an’ us ? ” 

Ruth stooped to pick up the fragments of 
the rare vase she had broken ; but the por- 
phyry was only glass to her, although she 
took each piece up as if it were a diamond ; 
it was her crushed heart she was thinking 
about, and not the broken ornament. 

"After all, William,” said Mrs. Mortimer, 
" it does not give any particulars ; perhaps 
it is not true. 'Sufficient unto the day is 
the evil thereof.’ ” 

" I hope it is not,” said William ; but if 
one had looked at his face as he said it, they 
would not have had much doubt as to his 
views of the real state of the case. 

Saturday passed, and Sunday came, bring- 
ing the peace which contemplation of God 
alone can give to weary, watching hearts. 
Ruth’s heart was still full of anxiety, but 


46 


His Jewels, 


prayer strengthened her to perform her 
daily duties; and though she tried to cast 
all her care on the Lord, she came to him 
fluttering like a wounded dove, rather than 
with a strong faith and assurance. It takes 
a long time for some of God’s children to go 
boldly to his protection on every approach 
of danger. They wait to resist it in their 
own strength; and then, when they are 
worsted in the struggle, they flutter down 
feebly to his feet. Blessed be the name of 
the Lord, that he does not reject them even 
then, but takes them in his arms and binds 
up their wounds, before he trusts them to 
the earth again. 

It seemed to Ruth as if the Lord was 
speaking to her through his^servant, as the 
minister gave out the text, "Let not your 
heart be troubled ; ye believe in God, be- 
lieve also in me.” As the preacher went 
on, Ruth’s face fairly beamed ; she was 


The Cutting Tools, 47 

thinkiDg of the love of God in receiving 
her as his child, and she lifted a heartfelt 
prayer to heaven that her belief might not 
fail, and that she might have such perfect 
faith in him that her heart would not be 
troubled; and as her clear voice joined in 
the closing hymn, ” Jerusalem, my happy 
home,” she sang from her heart, as she 
never had sung before. 

Monday morning was anxiously looked 
forward to by all the loyal people of the 
town. It dawned only to increase an anx- 
iety not to be mitigated for four long 
years — years of weary watching and wait- 
ing, breaking of hearts, and flowing of 
blood. 

William Campbell was one of the first at 
the post-office, and his heart responded to the 
news which met him there. An old man, 
who had served under General Scott, in the 
Mexican War, stood leaning against a pillar, 


48 His Jewels, 

and reading the last tidings to an excited 
band of men and boys who were gathered 
around him. He had just began to read a 
proclamation of the President : 

”'Now, therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, 
President of the United States, in virtue of 
the power in me vested by the constitution 
and the laws, have thought fit to call upon 
the militia of the several States of the Union, 
to the aggregate number of seventy-five thou- 
sand, in order to suppress said combinations 
and to cause the laws to be duly executed.’ ” 

The reader was here interrupted by loud 
cheers, followed by a ” tiger,” from all pres- 
ent, or rather, all but two. If we would be 
accurate, there were two who did not join in 
it ; one was a Virginian, and the other a man 
who had sold his tongue to a ” Cop2:)erhead ” 
at the last election. 

When the uproar was over, the old man 
went on, and as he read the name, ” Abraham 


The Cutting Tools. 


49 


Lincoln,” in conclusion, the applause was en- 
thusiastic. ” It has the true ring,” said one 
and another. — ” Shows he has some pluck, 
and means to put it through in a Yankee 
hurry, and no mistake.” — ''Pretty bold in 
him to demand so niany men,” muttered the 
Virginian. — " He’s going to finish it up and 
not be a lifetime about it,” cried another. — 
" I think it is just right,” squeaked a little 
coxcomb in one corner. " I wish he’d put 
me at the head of the seventy-five thousand ; 
I would sweep over the Southern States and 
have the rebellion put down in less than no 
time.” 

Leaving the company to settle the merits 
of the new would-be commander, William 
Campbell returned home. 

He found Kuth watering her flowers in the 
parlor. She looked up searchiugly at him as 
he entered, 

" It is true, Euth, about Fort Sumpter ; it 


4 


50 


His Jewels, 


is really taken, but the President has called 
for seventy-five thousand men, and every- 
body thinks the troubles will all be over in a 
few months, when the South sees that the 
North is in earnest.” 

" Shall you go, Willie?” faltered Euth. 

” My darling little sister, would you have 
me stay, if I can do my country any good ? 
but it is not necessary to decide this now. 
Let us pray to God for wisdom, and he will 
guide us all.” 

Poor Euth I she had not realized how soon 
she should need her newly acknowledge, d 
heavenly friend to sustain her burdened 
heart. 


Chapter VI. 


m THE LOEHS HAND. 



“ This heart that cannot rest, 

Shall thine forever prove, 

Though bleeding and distressed, 

Yet joyful in thy love.” — Cowper. 

ruth’s diary. 

“April 20 , 186 -. 

H ! my journal, what a world this is 
is we live in ! We have just received 
the ^news of the joassage of our troops 
through Baltimore. 'Will all great Nep- 
tune’s ocean wash the blood clean ’ from the 
murderers’ hands ? Two of our brave 
Massachusetts boys killed, and the lightning 
did not come down from heaven and strike 
down their murderers ! But what am I 
writing? The Lord hath said, 'Vengeance 
is mine, I will repay.’ And now I fear 

Willie will go to the war. I cannot be 

( 61 ) 


52 


His jewels. 


brave and Spartan-like about it. I never 
could urge my brother, although the country, 
my country, were bleeding at every pore ; 
but for the sake of the love I bear her, for 
the sake of my mother, who taught us to 
think lovingly of our country, I will be 
silent. The iron may enter my heart, but I 
will not speak. 

^^A^ril 21 . — Willie has enlisted, and I have 
strength to write the words. 'As thy days, 
thy strength shall be,’ was the motto for to- 
day in my little note-book; and it seemed 
almost prophetic. I take my dead hopes 
out, one by one, and bury them; leaving 
them until the resurection, when they shall 
rise again in all the glory of a heavenly 
fulfilment. What would father do, if he 
were at home with us? He was lookinof 
forward with so much pride to the time 
when Will should graduate, ^ Summa cum 
laudei I went last night, with some other 


In the Lord's Hand. 


53 


girls, to Mr. Stedman’s study, to talk with 
him about joining the church. They seemed 
so full of trust in God, that I felt my own 
distrust all the more, and dreaded my turn 
to speak; it seemed as if I was presump- 
tuous to think I loved the Lord when I had 
begun to doubt him so soon. I was deter- 
mined to tell Mr. Stedman just how I felt, 
and how I had tried to give myself to Christ ; 
and almost felt the burden drop off as I 
came near the cross; and I was for a time 
happier than I had been in all my life be- 
fore ; but when the news came of the war, 
and Willie spoke of going, then it seemed 
to me for a while that there was no God, 
and I was in despair and almost ready to 
give up my hope then, and in eternity. 

” While I spoke my voice shook ; and when 
I had ended, and l&oked up, some of the 
girls were crying for me. Then Mr. Sted- 
man looked at me so gently, it seemed to 


54 


His jewels. 


me if Christ had been there, he would have 
had the same kind look, only a little more 
grieved, as he would feel more the sin of 
doubting his Father. Then he said, 'Miss 
Campbell, you use the language of Bunyan’s 
pilgi'im to describe your coming to Christ; 
let me take the same. Do you not remem- 
ber one of the first things Christian did 
after setting out for the Heavenly City was 
to stumble into the Slough of Despond? 
that is where you are now; but he was 
nevertheless on his way toward heaven ; 
for all Pliable’s arguments could ^ not make 
him turn back.’ And then he asked if any 
thing could induce me now to give up the hope 
I had of salvation, and turn back; and with 
all my heart I told him no. It was so kind 
in him not to enlarge about Willie’s going 
to the war; for I am ^re I could not have 
borne it, and it was all I could do to speak 
of it myself. 


In the Lord's Hand. 55 

” Then he talked to us of the loving kind- 
ness of Jesus, and the Father’s protecting 
care, and how much he loved, even when 
he chastened us, until all the old love and 
trust came back to me ; and I promised, 
with the others, to confess his name on 
Sabbath after next — that is, if the church 
consents to propound us, and Mr. Stedman 
says there is no doubt about that. 

22. — Willie seems so bright and 
happy about going to the war, I do not 
think I ought to keep on such a gloomy 
face ; but it is so hard not to. He goes 
every night to drill ; one of J enny’s partic- 
ular friends has been chosen captain of the 
company ; she met Mm this morning, when 
she was coming back from one of her good 
Samaritan watchings, and he told her then. 
I know it is splendid in Jenny to do so much 
for the poor, but I am afraid she will get 
worn out. I try to get her to let me take 


56 


His Jewels, 


her place sometimes, but she says the peo- 
ple do not like strange faces ; and, to tell 
the truth, I’m afraid she has never forgotten 
my giving rhubarb instead of camomile to 
that funny old Miss Houghton. She said 
she felt a sight better after it, though; so 
I do not think it could have done much 
harm ; and I really think, a nurse who has 
made one mistake is much more apt to be 
careful afterwards. I mean to tell Jenny 
so ; for she looked so pale this morning, I 
felt really reproached for not helping her 
any more. 

23. — Will is getting ready to go 
into camp ; and I am so busy getting his 
dear old clothes in order, that I really must 
neglect my journal until I have a little more 
time. 

"Willie says he shall have furloughs, and 
come home often; and if the war is not 
over before he gets down South, he will 


In the Lords Hand, 


57 


conie home with an eagle, at least, on his 
shoulder. They say all women have a taste 
for military uniforms. I do not know but 
that is true to some extent ; at any rate, I 
know I am in a hurry to see my brother 
Will in his. I know one little kind of a 
woman who will admire him ; his auburn 
hair will look so* bright against the dark 
blue, and he is so tall. But I must not 
make a fool of myself, even for him. I 
am going to work now, hard. 

" May 3. — How long I have neglected my 
diary ! It seems as if important events al- 
ways came in a cluster. To-morrow, God 
sparing my life, I am to confess his name 
before men ; and Monday morning Willie is 
going away. I know I ought to give all my 
mind to the first ; but the other keeps com- 
ing in to distract me. I do not feel so de- 
spairing about him as I did at first. The 
war will not last long, even some of the 


58 


His jewels. 


wisest people say ; and Willie’s colonel says 
he should not be at all surprised if their reg- 
iment never went into battle. At any rate, 
I try to think, ' Sufficient unto the day is the 
evil thereof .and he who noticeth even the 
fall of a sparrow will not forget him. 

” It will be hard for me to stand up before 
all the people to-morrow 1)0 profess Christ’s 
name. It seems to me as if I ought not to 
think so, but be thankful that I can do any 
thing for one who has suffered so much for 
me. I hope, when the time comes, I shall 
feel so. 

— I have just come home from 
the communion service ; it was so sweet, 
and yet so grand and solemn ! It seemed 
to me as if Jesus Christ himself was with 
us ; and when my lips touched the blessed 
emblems of his agony for us, the world 
seemed to vanish like smoke from me, and 
I to be entering the open gate of heaven. 


In' the Lord^s Hand, 59 

Wlien we rose to sing the hymn commenc- 
ing, — 

“ ‘ Jesus, I my cross have taken, 

All to leave, and follow thee,’ ” 

I thought no cross would be too heavy to 
bear for him. 

”It was such a joyful thing to be with 
Willie in this ! — he had to stay alone so 
long. Why did I not come to Christ 
before ? That makes me think of poor, dear 
Jenny ; she is older than I, and has not come 
yet. She looked so sadly when she left me, 
I am sure she will be a Christian before long. 
At any rate, I will pray for her every day ; 
and I am sure God will hear me, for he has 
promised to. 

""May 6. — Willie has gone. Oh, how 
the house feels ! It seems as if the night 
had been shut up in it, and it would never be 
day again, until he opened the doors. 

But this is one of my crosses, and I mean 


6o 


His Jewels, 


to bear it uncomplainingly; I know I can 
while Jesus helps me. I must not sit and 
dream, but up and labor, ' fervent in spirit, 
diligent in business, serving the Lord.’ 

” There comes Miss Crosby now. I know 
she is bringing work for some of us. It 
seems to me as if she was a kind of orderly 
sergeant in the Lord’s army. I hope it was 
not very wrong for me to write that last sen- 
tence. At any rate I do not feel at all in- 
clined to erase it.” 


Chapter YII. 


3nSS CROSBY, THE ORDERLY SERGEANT. 

“ None knelt at her feet as adorers in thrall ; 

They knelt more to God than they used ; that was all. 

If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant ; 

But the charm of her presence was felt when she went.” 

— Mrs. E. B. Browning. 

LL now. Miss Ruth,” exclaimed 
Miss Crosby, as Ruth entered the 
room, "you do look like a June 
rose, this morning. I expected to find you 
all wilted down, now your brother’s gone.” 

Ruth did look like a rose ; Miss Crosby 
was right in her comparison. Her cheeks 
were rosy, her mouth was a little rosebud, 
and her eyes were bright, like dew-droj)s ; 
while her hair hung about her like golden 
sunbeams. 

" Well, Miss Ruth,” continued Miss 

Crosby, " I don’t mean to talk sentiment ; it 

( 61 ) 



62 


His Jewels. 


is not my way, you know; I have not got 
time to take from my work, so I will go right 
to my business first. 

"I know, Mrs. Mortimer, you wont lag, 
for you never do in any good work, and as 
to Miss Euth, seeing she has just come out 
on the right side, and seeing her brother has 
just gone to the war, I thought she would 
want to be doing something to make her 
light shine.” 

" Oh, yes ; jcertainly. Miss Crosby ; but 
what is it ? ” 

" Well, that is the point ; I was taking up 
rather too much time in explanation, but it 
saves in the end sometimes. You see we are 
talking of getting up a ” Soldiers’ Aid Soci- 
ety,” to make stockings and shirts and such 
things as the soldiers need. We are going 
to give something to the company from * our 
town and something to hospitals, that is, if 
there should be any battles. Excuse me. 


The Orderly Sergeant, 63 

Kuthie dear, but you know we must be ready 
for all emergencies, although we do not ex- 
pect them.” 

” We should be very glad to do all we can. 
Miss Crosby; and you will put our names 
down, if you please,” said Mrs. Mortimer. 

” Oh, yes ; I have my paper and pencil in 
my pocket,” replied the brisk little woman ; 
"and if you have no objections, I will ask 
the ladies to meet here next week, Thurs- 
day ; you know the lecture comes Monday, 
the Seamen’s Bethel Club Tuesday, and 
the prayer-meeting Wednesday ; so that will 
be just right.” 

"Be sure and tell them all to come,” said 
Kuth, as Miss Crosby rose to leave. 

" Oh, yes. Good-morning, ladies,” she 
added, as she passed out of the room. She 
never addressed people individually, when it 
could be helped ; she said it took too much 
time for nothing. 


64 


His Jewels. 


"How much that woman accomplishes,” 
exclaimed Ruth, as she looked after Miss 
Crosby’s retreating figure ; " even her bounet 
strings are hooked or tied, to save time.” 

Miss Crosby was one of those useful 
women who are found only few and far 
between, generally one or two to each 
church ; who are always busy in all schemes 
of benevolence, always at the prayer-meet- 
ings and funerals, and always watching over 
the sick-bed, where those younger and more 
beautiful are afraid to go. 

Her few scant tresses were always strained 
back in a hard brittle knot at the back of her 
head ; her dress always the same plain cut, 
regardless of fashion, and always short, for 
it was against her principles, she said, to 
sweep the streets without being paid for it. 
Then, out of doors, she generally wore a 
shawl, — a thick one in summer', and a thin 
one in winter, — and a plain straw with a 
green veil. 


The Orderly Sergeant 65 

• 

Good Miss Crosby ! what would the world 
do without you ? who would come and watch 
with the little Johnnies who have the scarlet 
fever? who would know as you do, what is 
the best cure for the whooping-cough? who 
would there be to stay with the babies, and 
let the tired mammas go out for a breath of 
fresh air? 

It is a good thing for the world, that you 
did not marry Joe or Ben, and have a house 
and children of your own to look after. For 
if you had, the world — well, at any rate, 
I do not believe it would be as happy or as 
good as it is now. 


Chapter VIII. 


JENNY’S LETTER. 



“ Thy God hath said, T’is good for thee, 

To walk by faith and not by sight ; 

Take it on trust, a little while ; 

Soon shalt thou read the mystery aright, 

In the full sunshine of his smile. ” — Christian Tear. 


EAK MARY : — I often think of you 
in your little room, sitting by the 
window, with the Bible in your hand, look- 
ing out over the blue waves; and, I hope, 
sometimes thinking of one who loves you, 
whom you left the other side of them. 

I hope the French air makes you stronger 
and better. Do you remember, after your 
sickness, that you were so light, I could 
carry you from your bed to a chair? How 
often I think of our long talks together, 
as you were getting stronger. Do you 

know Mary, I am sometimes inclined to 
( 66 ) 


yenny s Letter, - 67 

give up all my old opinions, and try to 
come to the feet of Jesus, as you taught 
me ; instead of ' climbing up some other 
way ; ’ and then all my old prejudices come 
back, and I give it up. 

" Ruth Campbell says she hopes she has be- 
come a Christian ; and I hardly know what 
she means by saying so, for I thought she 
always was one. 

" It seems to me as if some people expected 
to get to heaven by believing they shall, no 
matter what they do for Christ ; they call it 
faith, but I should say, ' Show me thy faith 
without works, and I will show thee my faith 
by my works. ^ 

” Faith without works seems to me like those 
beautiful roses without any perfume, which 
we used to have ; everybody used to smell 
of them, expecting to find them as full of 
perfume as they looked. I really believe 
when you found out your mistake, one dayj 


68 


His Jewels, 


that you would not have given that little pot 
of mignonette for a bedful of my roses. 

” But I did not mean to write yon a theolog- 
ical letter alone ; so I hope you will excuse 
me for taking up so much of yom' time with 
my very pointless theology. 

” It sometimes seems to me as if the doc- 
trines were too deep for me, and that I had 
better spend my time in studying Christ in- 
stead — I suppose you would say learn them 
by studying Him. When you write I hope 
you will send me a really serious letter, for 
it is just what I want. 

”You ask me what I am painting — an 
autumn scene I sketched on the Connecticut 
last year. I shall never forget the afternoon. 
Kobert and Maud, my two little cousins, 
went with me ; and while they strayed about 
gathering flowers, I found an old stone to sit 
on, beneath a tree, which glowed with such 
a golden light, that I felt as if a sunset-cloud 


yenny s Letter, 69 

had floated down around me. In the dis- 
tance, the hills melted into the purple haze ; 
and then c^lme the green hills, and the river 
flowed beneath, reflecting the blue sky and 
the feathery clouds. Then on either side of 
the river, and more dimly in the distance, 
glowed the autumn foliage. Some of the 
trees looked as if they had caught the sun- 
shine, and meant to hold it always, in spite 
of winter wind and storm. Then in the 
foreground I put the children gathering 
flowers. 

have told you all this, dear Mary, be- 
cjTuse you made me promise I would tell you 
all I was doing. If I should tell you I am 
painting to buy whiskey, would it take away 
all the romance? Do you remember poor 
Helen Eaton, who used to sew in the same 
shop with you, and have such terrible pains 
in her side? She is very ill now, and the 
doctor fears she will die of consumption. 


70 


His Jewels, 


The people who overworked her, poor child, 
will do nothing to help her, and she is suffer- 
ing every thing. She has used up all the 
wages she had saved these two years ; the 
doctor now has ordered her to take whiskey, 
and she has no money to buy any. It was a 
long time before I got this confession from 
her. 

” I do not want you to think I am always so 
self-denying ; I am not a saint at all, and I 
do not want to have the reputation of being 
one, until I am ; and so, to take away all 
such delusion, I acknowledge I sold my last 
joicture to buy myself a bonnet and cloak 

” Euth’s brother has enlisted, and is now in 
camp. We all miss him very much, as he 
was quite the life of the house. 

” I am glad that you were able to go to 
France for your health. How nice it must 
be to go to bed poor, and wake up rich, as 
you did. You must value your riches all the 


yenny s Letter, 7 1 

more, for the years of labor that came be- 
fore. 

” Herbert Wharton is going to the war. He 
has just been chosen captain of a company. 
I hope the difficulties will be settled without 
any more battles; but it seems almost too 
much to hope. Herbert says he thinks the 
war will last for years. If it does, I fear we 
shall not both of us live to see the end. 
Next time I will try to write you a more 
cheery letter. 

” With my best wishes for your health and 
happiness, believe me, as ever, 

"Your affectionate friend. 


Jenny Mortimer.- 


Chapter IX. 


THE DEPARTURE OF THE REGIMENT. 

“ God sees from the high, blue heaven, 

He sees the grape in the flower ; 

He hears the life-blood dripping 
In the maddest, merriest hour ; 

He knows what sackcloth and ashes 
Lie hid in the purple of power.” — Rose Terry. 

M^lfevLINGr out your banners to the breeze ! 

unfurl your flags ; gather together 
your flowers, Boston ! for a regiment is to 
pass through your streets to-day ; " one of 
the first to respond to the country’s call for 
volunteers.” So said the morning papers ; 
and long before the time for the arrival of 
the regiment, Boston had all things in readi- 
ness for its reception. 

The sun rose in golden glory, and the sky 
was bluer than ever, from 'the shower of the 
previous night. 

It was a true June morning, worthy of its 

( 72 ) 


73 


The Departure, 

place in the year; the buds bursting into 
leaves, and the grass already green on the 
Common, while the birds sang in the 
branches and the squirrels hopped from 
bough to bough. 

The regiment was to arrive at four. On 
all the streets, the sidewalks and balconies 
were crowded long before the time ” the 
boys” were to pass. 

On one little balcony stand our old friends 
Ruth and Jenny, among a group of their ac- 
quaintances. Their faces are sad, and they 
listen dreamily to catch the sound of the dis- 
tant music which will be the first token of 
the approach of the regiment. 

Ruth is looking more beautiful than ever. 
She wears a light gray suit, and a delicate 
little straw hat with a long blue feather, 
which partly shades her fair brow and droops 
over her sunny curls behind. Jenny stands 
by her in the striking contrast of a brunette. 


74 


His Jewels. 


She has not Euth'^s gentle sadness in her face ; 
but her lips are pressed tightly together, and 
she looks as if she was trying to turn her 
heart to adamant. 

” Hark ! they are coming,” murmured Euth, 
and before the words were out of her mouth, 
all the bells burst forth in a wild chorus, 
which was soon mingled with the sound of 
cornets and trumpets. The music grows 
louder, and soon the bands and the white 
* horses of the escort come into view ; then 
the gleaming of the bayonets and the flutter- 
ing plumes of the officers. ” They are com- 
ing ! they are here ! ” burst from a thousand 
lips, and then the air is filled with cheer on 
cheer, rising above the music and the bells. 

With a steMy tramp, tramp, the ”boys* 
in blue” pass on. The air is full of waving 
handkerchiefs and bamiers. 

In the momentary exoitement, Euth for- 
gets her sorrow, and waves her handkerchief 


The Departure, 


75 


with the others, as the regiment passes. A 
sudden breeze catches it from her little hand, 
and it flutters down upon one of the soldiers’ 
heads. He catches it in his hand, looks up 
at the fair sweet face above him, which is 
gazing do>vn in consternation at the freak 
of her property, and puts it laughingly, into 
his pocket. Perhaps she will hear from it 
again some time and perhaps not. She has 
forgotten it now, for there is Willie, with 
his tall form, his broad shoulders, and firm 
step. He has two bouquets in his hand al- 
ready; you need not throw him another, 
Nettie Dunning; but that does not make 
any diflerence. He takes it in his hand, 
and looks up at the balcony where Ruth 
had told him they were to stand ; one look, 
one smile, and he is gone. 

"There, Jenny,” whispered Ruth, "there is 
Mr. Wharton.” 

Poor little Ruth ! Jenny had seen him 


76 


His Jewels. 

already, for ten minutes. As he came by, 
she almost held her breath, but she need 
not have. There was no angel to tell him, 
and he passed on ; although he would given 
half his income to have known she was there. 

Thus it is in life ; an angefs eyes are upon 
us amidst a crowd of cares, but we are un- 
conscious of it ; our eyes are bent earthward, 
and we lose the heavenly blessing; 

A little sound of hushed music, a few 
notes of distant bells, and it was all over. 

Euth could contain herself no longer, and 
regardless of all observers, hid her face with 
her hands, on the balcony and wept. Jenny 
tried to comfort her, although her own heart 
was aching sadly. 

" Och, an’ in shure. Miss Euth, I’m after a 
thinking it’s about time for us to be a-going 
home,” spoke a voice from behind them. 
Euth looked up in surprise at the voice, and 
saw Bridget arrayed in her holiday attire ; 


The Departure. 77 

her ej^es red with weeping, but she tried 
to speak cheerily to her young mistress. 

”Why, Bridget,” said Euth, ” where did 
you come from?” 

” 1 ’ faith. Miss Euth, and do ye suppose 
I would let Mr. William go off in Mr. 
Scott’s regiment, without coming for to take 
a last look at him? And didn’t the darling 
look fine, and share, on that great capering 
beast, and the bells all a ringin’, and the 
cannon a-firin’ ? ” 

Bridget was gesticulating in such a way 
as to draw the attention of those passing 
beneath, and as Euth at this time did not 
care to be observed, she said to her, — 

” Yes, Bridget; let us all go home; we 
can do no more good here.” So saying, 
Euth rose wearily from her seat, and with 
her arm in Jenny’s, her veil wound over her 
face, started for home. 

They had gone on quietly for some time, 


78 


His Jewels, 


and Jenny had just began to ^ think Kuth 
was feeling happier, when suddenly a loud 
sob burst from her lips, and her hand tight- 
ened on Jenny’s arm. 

"Oh, Jenny, I try to be patient, but the 
great load keeps coming back ; if you only had 
a brother, you would know how I feel.” 

Jenny thought she might have some faint 
perception of her feelings, even though she 
had no brother; but she did not say so, and 
continued trying to comfort Ruth. 

How many Ruths there are in this world 
who think their trials are more insupportable 
than those of any of their friends; while 
those same friends, who seem so free from 
care, are bearing about with them burdens 
which are even greater. 

For such, what an unspeakable comfort 
it is to remember ‘that the good Lord 
knows them all, and has promised to sus- 
tain all those who cast their burdens upon 


The Departure, 79 

him. The more we know ourselves, the 
more charity we have for others. 

Mrs. Mortimer met them at the door, and 
without referring to their day of trial, saidj 
" Come in, children, it is damp out, this eve- 
ning; I’ve a blazing fire in the parlor for 
you.” 

She had made the parlor light and cheery, 
and the flames crackled up the chimney, and 
the warm coals threw a bright glow on the 
marble hearth. 

Two armchairs were drawn up near the 
fife, which were not long without occupants. 
Mrs. Mortimer insisted on taking their things 
off for them, through all her work talking 
gently and cheerfully about the home events 
of the day. 

When they were well warmed, and had 
taken their tea, then she asked them to tell 
her about the day. 

Jenny gave a glowing description of the 


8o 


His yewels. 


reception of the regiment, and then Euth 
went on to tell about seeing William for just 
an instant, and then his passing out of sight 
without her being able to say one word to 
him, only to catch his smile as he passed. 
Then while her mind was full of sorrow, and 
she had to let out a few of the tears which 
had been trembling in her eyes all day, how 
curiously the voice of Bridget broke in upon 
her thoughts, and how glad she was to get 
home, away from the noise and crowd of the 
city, and how kind Mrs. Mortimer had been 
to make it so warm and pleasant for them. 

After they had talked over the day, they 
all retired to rest. Euth prayed long and 
fervently for her soldier-brother, and for 
patience and grace for herself. She rose 
from her knees strengthened and comforted ; 
she had cast her burden on the Lord, and she 
already felt his sustaining arm beneath her ; 
and laid herself down in peace and slept. 


The Departure, 


8i 


Jane Mortimer went up to her little room, 
closed the door behind her ; and then, open- 
ing the window, looked out at the stars dimly 
shining through the dark pines on the hill. 
The wind blew cold and chill, and she shut 
the window with a shiver ; then she lighted 
her little candle and sat down, and bowed 
her head in her hands on the table, buried in 
thought. Weary with watching, she finally 
laid her sleepless head on the pillow, and 
tried to plan out new schemes of charity and 
greater labors for her busy fingers. 


Chapter X. 


WORKS WITHOUT LOVE. 



“Perplexed ia faith, but pure in deeds.” — Tennyson. 

ay in and day out, Jenny toiled on. 
Beautiful pictures grew beneath her 
hand ; bright scenes of childhood, old moss- 
covered cottages sheltered by branching 
trees, with children playing in the shade ; 
grand marine views, with foaming waves 
dashing against the rocks, and boats tossing 
about which seemed in vain striving to cast 


anchor ; and then sometimes gentle faces 
with sweet sad eyes, like those of a Madonna. 

So she worked all day, and when night 
came after a short evening rest, she would 
wrap her little shawl around her shoulders, 
and put her little close bonnet over her dark 
hair, and go forth, through the night and 
( 82 ) 


Works without Love, 83 

darkness, to watch with some poor sufferer. 
She did not heed the rough men and coarse 
women, by whom she had to pass ; she was 
wrapped in the veil of her own purity, 
which none of them dared to lift. They 
called her "the saint,” and when she drew 
near them, their coarse jests paused un- 
spoken on their lips, and the women’s 
unmeaning leer instinctively changed to a 
look of wondering admiration. 

Poor Jenny, with all her self-sacrifice, 
the midnight vigils, the day’s toil, was still 
trying to climb into the fold some other 
way, and not to enter by Jesus Christ, 
notwithstanding her recent thoughtfulness.' 

She was very beautiful, and had naturally a 
great flow of spirits ; but so many sad events 
had crowded into her short life, she was 
rather saddened. She had often jested at 
Kuth’s religious ideas, but since the memor- 
able evening service, she had not done so ; 


84 


His Jewels, 


although she was not ready to take them as 
her own, she ceased to jest in regard to 
them, and determined to search out the 
truth. She felt sometimes the shadow of 
peace falling on her heart, as she gave the 
"cup of cold-water, to one of Christ’s little 
ones,” but it would pass away, and she 
would again be blinded by the glare of her 
own self-righteousness. 

Christ was waiting at the door ; it would 
have been so easy to have opened it, but she 
delayed. Oh, the patience of Jesus Christ! 
He has seen the "good seed” in her heart, 
and is willing to wait for the flower, when 
the thought shall blossom into the glad word 
" enter I ” 

It was the evening of a hot day in July, 
and Mrs. Mortimer was sitting with her two 
daughters, as she called them, under the 
trees jn front of the house. It had been a 
sad day for them all, as news had come of 


Works without Love, 85 

the battle of Biill-Eun, and the defeat of 
the Federal army ; and they were waiting 
for the after-tidings, as a mother holds her 
breath, when the rope is lowered from the 
ship to reach her drowning boy. 

Jenny was as pale as the white lilies which 
grew by her side ; and Euth’s face was wet 
with tears, as she looked at the gleaming 
river. 

Mrs. Mortimer was repeating the Twenty- 
Third Psalm, and the gentle words fell on 
their aching hearts, like healing leaves on 
burning wounds. The clock was striking 
nine, as she finished; when Jenny rose 
hastily, and went into the house. In a 
moment she returned with her bonnet on, 
and a basket on her arm. 

"Why, Jenny,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer 
and Euth with one voice, " are you going out 
to-night ? ” 

" Mother, I must go,” she answered firmly. 


86 


His Jewels, 


" for I fear Helen Eaton is ill again, and I 
promised her I would come. I had forgotten 
it until this moment.” 

Mrs. Mortimer, knowing well the nature 
of Jane-s promises, ceased to urge the 
matter ; but as she kissed her upturned face, 
said, — 

”Dear Jenny, now do take care of your- 
self ; I really do not like to have you going 
down that alley alone, so late in the eve- 
ning ; do let me send for Eobert to go with 
you.” 

”No, mother dear, I really do not need 
anybody, fori am not at all afraid; I have 
been so many times that I know almost all 
the people there.” 

^'Well, Jenny dear, at least promise me 
you will sleep some to-night, and not watch 
all the time.” 

Jenny promised, laughing at her mother’s 
extreme solicitude, and persisting that she 


Works without Love, 87 

was perfectly well, said good-night, and 
passed out of the gate down the street. 

Fish Alley was notoriously the worst part 
of the town. Why it received its name no 
one knew. Some said it was named for 
Governor Fish, others for the perpetual fishy 
odor which it certainly possessed; and one 
school-boy just entering on the glory of 
natural history declared it received its name 
from the fact that its inhabitants belonged to 
the lowest class of vertebras. The houses 
were mostly built with gables, with the gable 
end on the street. There were a few one- 
room huts cowering at the feet of huge tene- 
ment houses four stories high, which hung 
over them like impending avalanches. It 
was evident that the houses in this alley were 
built entirely regardless of general eflfect. 

The windows were stuffed with rags or 
pasted with brown paper, the doors were 
generally wanting or hanging on one hinge, 


88 


His Jewels, 


and only here and there hung a creaking 
blind. The passage-way was full of old 
broken kettles, crockery, old hoops, orange 
rinds, and everywhere dirt, dirt, dirt ! 

The evening was the gala part of the day, 
and the inhabitants generally prolonged it 
until twelve o’clock, singing, dancing, play- 
ing cards, quarreling, and drinking. 

The alley was quite excited this July night 
at the news from Bull-Euu. To the great 
relief of the town, she had contributed a large 
number of soldiers to the army, and various 
were the angry words and loud discussions. 

”I say. Bill,” shouted Jack Eooney, "let’s 
have a fight ; you be the Federals and I’ll be 
the rebels, and we’ll put it through as they did 
at Bull-Eun. It is my place to give the first 
blow, you know,” and suiting the action to the 
word, he adroitly overturned his opponent. 

It took but a few minutes for a crowd to 
gather; not of peacemakers, but of war 


Works without Love. 89 

makers, and various were the cries of " Give 
it to him, Bill,” ” Go it. Jack,” and ” Act like 
a Eooney, my pet,” etc. 

J ust at this moment Jane turned the corner 
of the alley and hesitated. 

"An’ shure,” said a drunken fellow, a 
stranger in the alley, " stop yer noise and see 
that fine young woman a blooming round the 
corner. I guess I’ll go and escort her down 
the alley ; ” and with a rapid stride he went 
up to the timid girl. 

" Oh, how do you do ? I been expectin’ you 
this long time,” he said, with a disagreeable 
ogle, as he tried to take her arm. 

Just then. Jack Eooney, notwithstanding 
his excitement, caught a glimpse of what was 
going on. "I won’t have it ! ” he shouted, 
and flinging oflT his opponent went after the 
drunkard. Some of the people shouted 
" coward ” and " beat ” in his ear, but he gave 
no heed. Seizing the man by the collar, he 


90 His Jewels, 

sent him with a toss out of the court, and 
then looking at Jane, said, with an entirely 
different aspect, '' Miss Mortimer, I am very 
sorry this should happen. I would have lost 
my arm first. Are you coming to see Helen ? 
We are rough fellows, but we wouldn’t hurt 
you any more than our Lady,” he said, cross- 
ing himself. 

Jenny looked into the honest face, and fol- 
lowed his lead with rapid step. The men 
paused as she passed them, but she drew a 
long breath, as she reached the cottage of the 
sick girl and entered the door. 

” I ought to have minded my mother,” she 
said, playfully, to her guide. ” She told me 
not to come here to-night.” 

” Oh, but Miss Mortimer, if you only knew 
how she has been moaning like for ye, all 
day, and we was afraid how she’d never open 
her sweet eyes on the mornin’ sun again. 
And oh, Miss Mortimer,” he added, waxing 


Works without Love. 


91 


eloquent, ” didn’t you say your own self, that 
it didn’t soil the feet of the blessed angels to 
come into the houses of us poor folks, and 
that it did not hurt the Holy One to eat with 
sinners ; shure and you said it was because 
the good Father took care of ’em, as they was 
a doin’ his work.” 

” Yes, Jack, and you see he did take care 
of me; but if you remember so much of 
what I have said, how did it happen I found 
you fighting so ? Speak softly, so as not to 
disturb Helen, and tell me.” 

”Why now. Miss Mortimer, you see I 
had been holdin’ in all day, a thinking of 
the news, and the fightin’, and our gittin’ 
beat, and all that, and I believe if I hadn’t 
fit somebody I should have bust. But I 
ain’t going to do it no more,” he added ; " I’m 
a-goin’ where there’s raal fightin’ to be done, 
in earnest, for the old flag.” 

"Why, Jack,” said Jenny, "and you so 
young.” 


92 


His Jewels. 


"Yes, Miss Jenny, there’s younger than I 
goes, heaps of ’em. They puts us in to fill 
up the cracks. We’re young, and can go 
where the big ones can’t.” 

"I think I heard Helen’s voice,” said 
Jenny, with her hand on the latch. "Before 
you go to fill up a crack, John, be sure you 
come and bid me good-bye.” 

"I will, miss, surely,” he answered; and 
with a little bow, his ragged hat in his hand, 
he went out of the door. 


Chapter XI. 


JEN2iY’8 ILLNESS. 

“ The sky is overcast, 

Yet stars shall rise at last, 

Brighter for darkness past. 

And angels’ silver voices stir the air.” — Proctor. 

f ENNY entered the sick room. It 
was such a relief from the dust and 
filth outside. The window was open, the 
soft air from the clover fields beyond filled 
the room, which was scrupulously clean. 
It boasted of no chair, only one or two old 
chests, and the narrow bed on which the 
sick girl lay. On the shelf opposite, stood a 
broken vial containing a beautiful rosebud. 
It seemed as out of place as the fair young 
girl herself. By the bedside stood a barrel, 
with a white cotton covering, and a bottle 
and mug of water on it. It takes some time 

( 93 ) 


94 


His jewels. 


to describe the room, but it would not have 
taken one long to see all there was in it. 

On the rude bedstead lay the poor suffering 
girl ; little golden curls clustered around her 
transparent brow. Her long hair had been 
ruthlessly cut by her landlady, to be sold to 
pay her board. Her large, dreamy, gray 
eyes rested on the rosebud, and her pale, 
thin hand clasped a well-worn Testament 
which lay beside her. 

Her eyes brightened, and a sudden glow 
tinted her cheek, as she looked at Jane’s face. 

”So long — so tired,” she said, as she took 
* Jenny’s hand. 

"Don’t talk, dear Helen,” murmured Jane. 
" I have come to stay with you to-night ; ” 
and she laid off her bonnet, sitting by the 
bedside, and opened the basket. "Here 
are some lemons and sugar, some jelly and 
wine, Euth sent you,” she said; and then 
took them out and laid them on the shelf. 


yenny s Illness, 


95 


” Dear Miss Kuth,” murmured Helen, ” she 
is one of Christ’s own little ones. She came 
here, the other day, and sang, — it was like 
an angel’s voice, — so sweet. And then she 
talked to me of Jesus, just like my own 
dear mother,” she added ; when here she was 
interrupted by a fit of coughing, and Jenny 
urged her not to try to talk any more. 

With a light and noiseless step, Jenny 
changed the pillows, and took off the heat- 
ing comforter, and laid her soft blanket 
shawl in its stead. Then she took a clean 
handkerchief from the basket, and dipping 
it in cool water, laid it on the brow. Then 
she made some iced lemonade, mixing with 
it a little of her own earned whiskey, and 
put it beside her on the barrel. Then she 
took off the wet linen, and cooling her fingers 
on the piece of ice she had brought with her, 
gently passed her hands over the fair brow, 
until the lids fell heavily over the bright 


96 


His Jewels. 


eyes, as clouds float down over stars. . Soon 
the fingers loosened from their hold of the 
book, and she sank into a quiet slumber. 

” Aifl sure, an’ do you want any thing, an’ 
are you arl comfortable for the night?” 
screamed out a harsh voice, as the door swung 
open. 

Jenny arose and went quickly to the door. 
'' Oh ! Mrs. Flanigan, do speak softly, for I 
have just got her to sleep ! ” 

" Och ! an’ it’s nothin’ but slapiu’ she 
does, arl day; an’ I’d do that, wouldn’t the 
house be in rack and ruin?” she added, 
with her tone but slightly softened, and 
flounced back to her own room. 

Helen’s eyes opened, and she began to 
cough. Jenny, striving to put down her 
vexation, went to her and gave her some 
medicine. 

"What was that noise?” queried Helen. 
"I thought I was in Heaven, when, sud- 


penny's Illness, 


97 


denly, a dreadful giant seized hold of me, 
and thundered in my ear, to know what I 
wanted there ! ” 

"Never mind, dear; it was only Mrs. 
Flanigan, who came to see what you wanted 
for the night. Don’t talk, and I will try 
to soothe you again.” 

It took longer this time, and poor Jenny’s 
arms ached before the result was again at- 
tained. When it was, from sheer exhaus- 
tion, her own head drooped on the window 
seat, and she was soon sleeping, too. When 
she awoke, morning -had began to dawn, 
and the morning star shone in the east. 
Her shoulder and arm were both stiff, and 
her head was aching with a dull, heavy pain. 
She rose and went to Helen’s bedside ; she 
seemed to be still sleeping; but, as Jane 
came near, opened her eyes. 

" Oh ! Jenny, such a happy night I have 
not had for a long time ! Such a sleep ! ” 


7 


98 


His Jewels, 


she murmured, and a brighf smile beamed 
on her face. felt so safe with you, so 
happy, that I could sleep.” Her eyes rested 
on Jane’s pale face — the smile faded. ” Jane, 
you are ill ! ” she exclaimed; ”you must go 
home. Do knock at the next door, and ask 
Jack Kooney to go and get a carriage for 
you.” 

Jane did not dare to expostulate. She 
certainly looked the sicker of the two ; and 
although she longed to stay, she felt her 
aching head could not bear it, and did as 
Helen told her. 

Jack was out of the house in a minute, 
and in ten times that, the carriage was at 
the door. Jenny kissed Helen, and told 
her she would be well very soon, and come 
and see her again. Jack helped her into the 
carriage. 

” Goodness ! Miss Mortimer, how pale 
you look ! Don’t you get sick, for if you 


Jenny s Illness, 


99 


do, there wont be any one for me to say 
'good-bye’ to, who cares for me;” and 
a tear started to his eye, hut he hastily 
brushed it off with his rough sleeve, as if 
it were unmanly, and went slowly hack into 
the house. In the incredibly short time 
Jack had not only ordered the carriage, 
but had told the servant at Mrs. Mortimer’s, 
that Miss Mortimer was coming home sick, 
and she must get a place ready for her, and 
tell her mother. When the carriage stopped 
at the gate, Jenny was led in gently and 
laid on the sofa. As she felt the pillow, 
she closed her eyes wearily with a sigh. 
Just then her mother entered the room. 
It took but a glance to see the state of her 
child, and after a few gentle words, she called 
Kuth and the servants, and carried her up- 
stairs mto her own room, which was cool and 
darkened. Then, leaving Euth in charge, she 
dispatched a servant for the doctor. ' 


Chaptek XII. 


NEWS FROM THE SEAT OF WAR. 

“ One prayer — Thy will, not mine ! — and bright 
O’er all my being, 

Breaks blissful light, that gives to sight 
A subtler seeing.” — Anon. 

S HE doctor has been to see Jane, and 
has pronounced her case to be one 
of typhoid fever, brought on by excitement 
and overwork. 

He has given her an opiate, and at last she 
is sleeping, so we can leave her and look over 
Ruth’s shoulder as she reads the telegram 
just brought to the door. "All right with 
me ; all wrong with the army. William 
Campbell.” 

Euth’s face glowed with joy ; she was not 
sufficiently patriotic to regard the country 

first. IShe went to tell Mrs. Mortimer the 

( 100 ) 


News from the War, loi 

good news, and then, hardly waiting to hear 
her exclamation, went down to the kitchen to 
proclaim the news there. 

"Oh, Bridget, such good news from Mr. 
William ! He is all safe ; they have had a 
great battle and he was in it all and did not 
even get wounded.” 

Bridget was standing with her arms up to 
her elbows in flour, but as Kuth came in, she 
drew them out, and before Ruth had finished 
her sentence, she wiped her eyes, utterly re- 
gardless of flour. 

She made an odd picture standing there 
with her dress tucked up behind her, her 
sleeves rolled up above her elbows, and 
tears and flour all over her face in hope- 
less chaos. 

" Oh, Miss Ruth,” she said, " and now will 
the poor dove fly home. Didn’t I pray to 
the Blessed Virgin only last night for to take 
care o’ him. I’ faith, and I’ll get the praste 


102 


His Jewels, 


to add a new bade to my string for the pup- 
pose of thanking the Mother for this. But 
now, Miss Euth,” said Bridget, with a kind 
of a whisk and dance, ” wont we have good 
times agin’ Mr. William comes home ? ” 

" Oh, Bridget,” said Euth, her happy face 
a little saddening, fear he wont be back 
this many a long day. His army was beaten 
and they will have to try it again.” 

”Erwusha, now. Miss Euth, I think we’ll 
have to go and fight ’em ourselves. I fired 
off a goon ter oust, when Mr. Will’m was a 
boy, and shure I can do it now.” 

"I did not know he ever had a gun then, 
Bridget ; I thought mother was not willing.” 

” An’ shure > Miss Euth, I forgets now what 
the name of this is, but I’m afther a-thinkin’ 
he called it a pop-goon. You needn’t laugh 
now. Miss, I’m not one of those ignorant 
Irishers don’t know what nothin’s made for ; 
and I don’t, o’ course, ’spose they use 


News from the War, 103 

small corks in ’em; but goons is goons, 
and if I fired off a little one, I could a big 
one.” 

” Well, Bridget, when I go I’ll take you, 
you may be sure of that. How does the 
gruel for Miss Jenny, get along?” 

"Oh, it’s all right. But don’t you think, 
my darlin’, I cried ’cause I was sorry ; but 
och, I couldn’t help it. It’s a way I have, 
bein’ of a contrary nature, I think. When 
the butter don’t come, after me churning, 
I laughs, and when I hears Mr. William’s 
arl right I cries.” 

Ruth had stood with her hand on the 
door-latch, just starting to go, ever since 
her first announcement, but Bridget was so 
irresistibly amusing, she had to wait and 
hear her. 

" I think there’s somebody knocking, 
Bridget ; look and see,” said Ruth. 

Bridget, giving her face a hasty wipe with 


104 


His Jewels, 


her apron, rather the worse for opening 
stove doors, went and opened it. 

"Well, now, if. here ain’t Johnny Will- 
iams ! ” 

"Oh, Miss Ruth,” called Johnny, as he 
caught a glimpse of her dress, "what is 
the news ? ” 

But Ruth had closed the door and did 
not hear. 

"Bridget, do tell me what is the news?” 

"News,” says Bridget, "did’nt you know 
Mr. William is never coming home no more, 
and the whole army is cracked to pieces ? ” 

The little heart heaved, the eyes filled 
with tears, and with one loud sob, he was 
rushing from the house, when Bridget, 
frightened at what she had done, called 
him back. 

"Why Johnny, mavourneen, I want to tell 
yer, I was only making a little fun, and 
indade, I think myself it was but a sorry 


News from the War, 105 

thing to fun about. Master William’s all 
well, and safe in Washington.” 

Johnny was a little bit angry ; he thought 
Bridget had been unkind to him ; and for- 
getting the really kind heart she always had 
shown to him, his eyes flashed, and he said : 

”I think you are the cruelest girl in the 
world, and I will tell Patrick Keegan. There 
he is coming now, to see what a sweet face 
you have.” Bridget glanced up hastily at the 
little glass on the wall, and began to laugh. 

" It is swate, Johnny, there’s no mistake ; ” 
and so saying, she turned to the sink, and 
splashed the cool water over it ; and just as 
Patrick entered, looked up from the towel 
with such a bright face, that Johnny began 
to think that what he could say might not 
have much influence on Patrick after all. So, 
Bridget putting a small donation in the shape 
of a cake in his pocket, he went off through 
the yard whistling " Hail Columbia.” 


Chapter XIII. 


RUTH FINDS OUT WHAT THE LORD WILL 
HAVE HER DO. 

“ I sometimes hold it half a sin 
To put in words, the grief I feel ; 

For words, like nature, half reveal 
And half conceal the soul within.” 

— Tennyson, 

ruth’s diary. 

“ August 4. 

H ! my diary ; how I have neglected 
you ! But I have been so very hard 
at work, I really have found no time to 
make a record of my doings. Jenny has 
been so sick ; one night we thought she 
could not live. Miss Crosby was here, the 
dear old creature, and she took every thing 
in her hands to manage. She said she 
knew just what ought to be done, and she 
could do it. She said she was a nurse by 
nature. I do not see, for my part, how 
she can have so many good things in her. 




(100) 


Rutlis Diary, 


107 


'by nature/ and yet believe in 'total de- 
pravity.’ I do not believe they did come 
'by nature/ myself. Any one who has such 
lines in their faces, as she has, must have 
come out of great tribulation, before they 
become 'ministering angels,’ as she is. I 
wonder if I have got to be cut and ground, 
before the Lord will take me as one of 
his jewels. I cannot bear the cutting tools, 
except he be with me; they would crush 
me. But what am I writing? Is not he 
the master, and are not the jewels in the 
hands of his own workmen ? I will not be 
afraid. Wha^; does it all matter, so that 
he receives me at last ? When trouble 
comes he will give me strength to bear it. 
There is a great deal expressed in that old 
anecdote : A man, much disturbed by the 
thought that he might not have sufficient 
grace to die as a Christian, was told ; 'You 
must not expect to have dying grace to 


I o8 His Jewels, 

live by. When the time comes, the grace 
will be given.’ 

"We had a letter from my dear, noble 
brother Will, yesterday. He was* in the 
thickest of the fight. He had a very hard 
time, getting separated from the regiment, 
by being unable to walk. He was sick the 
night before the battle, and the surgeon 
advised him not to go with the rest ; but 
he would go. He says the rebel pickets 
were near them, and the one or two of his 
men who were with him all night. He said 
they could 'sometimes see them, and hear 
them talking. The last words in his letter, 
were : ' I am more determined than ever, 
to stand by the old flag ! ’ Dear, good boy ! 
I am sure he is worthy of his country. 
May God be with him. I hope I am not 
a traitor to wish he were at home. He 
says Herbert Wharton was the bravest fel- 
low in the company, and will be wearing 


Ruth!s Diary, 


109 


stars, before long, for his courage. I know 
somebody who will not be sorry to hear it. 

”Poor Jack Kooney ! He came in his’ 
military suit, to say ' good-bye ’ to Jenny, and 
she could not see him. It was the night 
she was so very sick. I knew she had a 
Testament to give him; and as I feared it 
might not reach him otherwise, I gave it to 
him. He was so thankful, and said he should 
keep it, for her sake ; although he feared he 
could not learn to love it, for its own. I 
hope he will, I am sure. I hope it is not a 
sin, but I rather like to hear a man stand up 
for his own faith, until, by sound reasoning, 
and study, he. is persuaded to change it, and, 
by the blessing of God, come into the fold by 
Jesus Christ. I think he will read it first, for 
Jenny’s sake ; and then I am sure he must love 
it, for its own. He left a little brooch, he 
had carved for her, out of a piece of bogwood 
his sailor uncle had brought from England. 


I lO 


His Jewels, 


August 5th , — Miss Crosby says Jenny 
will be able to come down to our prayer- 
meeting, to-morrow. I do hope the girls 
will come ; I am sure it is for our good ; al- 
though one or two of them persist in saying 
it is not. I used to be inclined to think so, 
too ; but my friend Susie told me such beau- 
tiful stories about the prayer-meetings the 
girls had at school, that I gave up all my 
opposition. 

” She said they tried to persuade one of their 
number who was opposed to it, to say a verse 
when she came, but she could not even do 
that. The next meeting she came again, and 
to the surprise of all, joined in prayer with 
the others ; such a prayer as only one of 
God’s own children could make. 

"After the meeting, Susie was walking home 
with her and asked her how long she had felt 
so. She looked up in her sweet, bright way, 
her eyes filling with tears, and answered, 


Rut/is Diary, in 

' Oh, since the last meeting.’ How glad 
Susie must have been that she asked her to 
go. I wish I might he the messenger of such 
glad tidings to some of those whom I love. 

” Mr. Stedman came here this morning to 
see Jenny, Those great gentle eyes of hers 
looked at him so earnestly when he spoke to 
her of Jesus Christ, I am sure the mist 
which hides his divine nature is gradually 
melting away. Oh, for the glad day when 
we shall all see him as he is ! 

August 6. — Our prayer-meeting is just 
over. Jenny was brought into the room, and 
laid on the lounge. I did not like to ask 
her, because she had not wished to be asked, 
but I was so glad when she proposed it her- 
self. 

” We had such a meeting. We had it so 
informal. We read the Bible and sung, and 
then, beside the prayers, we talked. They 
that love the Lord spoke often one to another, 


I 12 


His Jewels, 


and the Lord kept a book of remembrance 
in which to record their names. 

"We must not give these meetings up. 
They seem to be the links in the chain that 
binds us to each other and to the Lord. 

"Jenny said she had no idea a prayer- 
meeting could be so delightful. She said she 
never enjoyed any thing so much in her life. 

"We are to praise Him together in heaven, 
why not pray to Him together on earth. 

"Jenny wanted me to go and see Helen 
Eaton; so last night I went. We are going 
to have her brought here. I am sure we can 
take care of her, and it is so dreadful for her 
to have to live in that noisy, dirty place. I 
shall have to give up some of my own pleas- 
ures, but what did Christ give up for us ? and 
" Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these, ye do it unto me.’ 

" I read to her the last chapter of Eevela- 
tion, and gave to her Mrs. Browning’s poem. 


Rut/is . Diary. 1 1 3 

' He giveth his beloved sleep.’ She has such 
a love of poetry. Next to the Bible, she 
says she loves my hymns. I am so thankful 
God has given me something to do for Him. 
Miss Crosby is going to watch with Helen to- 
night, so I shall stay with Jenny, and I must 
shut you up, little diary ; you are the herba- 
rium of my thoughts. Would that imply 
that they are flowery? I did not mean it 
should. Good-night.” 


8 


Chapter XI V . 


THE SOLDIERS’ AID SOCIETY. 


“ Words are mighty, words are living ; 
Serpents with their venomous stings, 

Or bright angels crowding round us 
With heaven’s light upon their wings ; 
Every word has its own spirit. 

True or false, that never dies ; 

Every word men’s lips have uttered 
Echoes in God’s skies.” — Miss Proctor, 



ELICK, click ! go the knitting-needles ; 
shirr, shirr ! go the great shears 
through the cotton-cloth, and buzz go the 
women’s voices. If you doubt now, what is 
going on in the hall, I fear you are one of 
those who, in 1862, having ears, heard not, 
and having eyes, saw not. 

" I say. Miss Crosby, where do the gussets 
go, and where are the wristbands?” and 
” what are gussets, any way?” — "Miss 
Crosby, where are the buttons ? ” — " Oh, Miss 


( 114 ) 


The Soldiers^ Aid Society. 115 

Crosby, just do please tell me how to turn this 
heel — I never knit a stocking in my life.” 

There she stands, the soul of the company ; 
stepping gracefully here and there, basting a 
gusset for one, getting the buttons for 
another, and taking up stitches in recreant 
heels. She is not confused ; her face is calm, 
and her head is clear; and whatsoever she 
does, she does heartily, as to the Lord and 
not to men.” 

It was cheering to the soldiers to think of 
the bright eyes that bent over the stitches in 
their stockings, and the little fingers that 
slipped the needles in and out, but unfortun- 
ately the stitches were dropped sometimes, 
and it was rather provoking to see them com- 
ing to pieces the first time they were worn. 
No d^ubt "the boys” wondered sometimes at 
the lack of anatomical knowledge they dis- 
played, and wondered if the bright eyes 
really thought they had no ankles ; and that 


His Jewels, 


1 16 

their feet had really grown so much, practis- 
ing in Southern mud. 

No doubt it did require an effort sometimes 
to keep back a shout, as some of these out- 
landish garments appeared (I wonder if any 
of them ever made the effort) . Undoubtedly 
the Miss Crosby s made the best stockings, 
but it was good to know that they were re- 
membered by the Annie Lauries, even though 
their efforts were not always very successful. 
I am sure, though, that the third year stock- 
ings were better than the first. 

Kuth sat in one corner sewing on a shirk 
The work would get wrong — the wristbands 
go for facings, and the bindings for wrist- 
bands — it was so confusing; but the little 
fingers ripped and ripped, and basted and 
basted, until the garment really began to look 
like what it was intended for. 

Jenny sat beside her, looking thinner for 
her illness ; but so well that no one alluded 


The Soldiers' Aid Society, 117 

to the change. She was knitting red, wdiite, 
and blue in the leg of a stocking; but it 
seemed the gayer the work, the sadder her 
face grew. Miss Hawkins had begun to read 
a Jetter written from one of the hospitals 
after the Bull-Eun battle, and it was not at 
all cheering. 

Not only defeated, but wounded ! such a 
sad story it was ; and as the soldier went on 
to tell of the heart-rending scenes after the 
battle, the needles flew faster, and tears as 
well as stitches filled the threads of the gar- 
ments. 

Miss Hawkins was not like Miss Crosby. 
Her intentions were good, but she was utterly 
devoid of tact; or, as Mr. Stedman would 
say, the milk of human kindness. ' She had 
schooled herself to endure all things with 
stoic firmness. If she had ever had any 
weaknesses, nobody knew them. 

She had Miss Crosby’s brusqueness, with- 


ii8 


His Jewels, 


out her gentleness. She was one of those 
people who seem to have been born grown 
up. I do not mean by that, that she was 
like Eve ; although she may have been like 
her when fallen ; but she seemed to have 
no love for childhood, and no considerations 
for young people. She would go. without 
her tea for weeks for the sake of buying a 
shawl for poor old Mary Shaw; but she 
would give it with such hard advice, that to 
Mary it seemed dearly bought. She was a 
terror to all boys; no one would even ask 
her for a peach or a flower, although the 
trees bent to the ground with their burdens. 
If they had asked her, she would have given 
them ; but no gentle smile or kind word 
would have gone with them, and most pre- 
ferred to go without the peaches. 

Poor Miss Hawkins had chosen this thrill- 
ing letter* to read, thinking it would ” stir 
up” the people to work. She did not re- 


The Soldiers^ Aid Society, 119 

alize that the people who were not there 
were the only ones who needed it ; she did 
not realize how the young heart palpitated, 
and the lips quivered, as every word was 
personally applied. Each one said to her- 
self, It may some time be the news from my 
brother, my son, my friend. 

Miss Hawkins did not believe in homce- 
opathic doses. She tried to be a Christian. 
She went to church three times on Sunday, 
and read six chapters a day in the Bible. 
She prayed three times a day, using the 
prayer-book. She went without carpets for 
the sake of sending money to the Home 
Missions ; but one day, when the wife of one 
of our Home Missionaries called to see her, 
and thank her tremblingly for her kindness, 
she poured forth such a flood of words 
against extravagance and conformity to the 
world, that the poor woman, struck with 
wonder at what dreadful sin she could have 


120 


His Jewels. 


committed, left the house in tears. After- 
wards she learned that the little bonnet and 
pink ribbon she wore was the cause of it all. 
She took pains afterwards that Miss Haw- 
kins should know it was made by herself 
from a piece of her mother’s wedding-dress 
and some ribbon given her by one of her 
Sabbath-school scholars, and cost nothing at 
all, except half an hour’s labor. 

Miss Hawkins seemed like a river covered 
with ice. There was a warm current under- 
neath, but the sun never was powerful 
enough to let it out. But there was a sun- 
beam came at last which melted the ice. It 
was in the shape of a little child who was 
bequeathed to her by her brother when he 
died. As she entered, the leaves quivered, 
the flowers bent, the birds sang, and, as she 
sprung with a bound into her aunt’s arms, 
the ice melted, and the warm current burst 
forth, never to be frozen again. Then 


The Soldiers Aid Society. 121 

through the eyes of a little child she saw 
the heart of her Master, and became as a 
little child herself. 

^ But Miss Crosby was improving all these 
years she was losing. While this river 
was frozen, the other river flowed joyously 
through the meadows, and watered them, 
and made the. grass spring up and the 
flowers grow, and bore little boats of 
happy children on, and refreshed weary 
pilgrims. It reflected the beauties of all 
about it, and sparkled and shone in the 
warm light of the beaming sun. 

While Miss H. is reading her letter, 
we have found out much more about hei* 
than she knew herselfl Euth is not in the 
room, but in the entry; she stands by the 
window trying in vain with her misty eyes 
to thread her neddle. Miss Crosby’s arm is 
around her. 

"Euth, sweetheart, just think what your 


122 


His Jewels, 


Willie has escaped: the good Lord has de- 
livered him from all those pains Miss H. 
has been reading about. Have you lost 
your faith in Him so soon, little one ? ” 

As she said this, Euth raised her eyes to 
the calm face bending over her,- then with 
a sudden impulse threw both arms about 
her neck, and kissed her. The quiet face 
gi’ew softer, and the pale lips pressed the 
rosy cheek laid on her shoulder. There was 
some danger of an overflow on both sides 
this time ; but Miss Crosby gently disengag- 
ing her, said, — 

” Now, Euthie, the box must go to-morrow, 
and if you take such long resting spells, I 
fear the shirt will not go with it.” 

"That is true. Miss Crosby,” said Euth, 
resolutely ; and, wiping her eyes, she took 
up the shirt and went back into the room 
with her. 

The letter was finished, and one of the 


The Soldiers^ Aid Society, 123 

girls was telling an amusing incident of the 
battle, which served to brighten up the com- 
pany a little. 

As they were about to go home, and all 
the work was folded up, the music of a band 
was heard, and the company who were form- 
ing marched by. 

" Oh, how soul-stirring that music is ! ” 
exclaimed Euth, as the well-known strains 
of the ” Star-Spangled Banner” filled the 
air. 

As she looked round to catch Jenny’s eye, 
she saw she was not there ; surprised, she 
ran out into the entry and found her there, 
putting on her hat. 

"Why, Jenny, why do you not come and 
hear the music ? ” 

" I was tired, Euthie. I thought I would 
slip away without troubling you.” 

"You dear little pigeon, did you suppose 
T wanted to stay without you,” said Euth, 


124 


His Jewels, 


laughingly, and, putting on her own hat, 
went out of the house with her. " But what 
makes you so pale?” continued Kuth. 

"Those were such dreadful things Miss 
Hawkins read. I felt as if the iron bullets 
were cutting right into me.” 

" So did I ; and you know I kept thinking 
of Willie, and what if he should get any of 
those dreadful wounds, until I, could not 
bear it any longer, and went out in the 
entry ; and then dear, kind Miss Crosby came 
and talked to me, and brightened me up, so 
I could go back. Oh, Jenny, you do not 
know what a torture it is to have a brother 
in the army ! ” 

" No, I don’t,” replied Jenny rather shortly, 
and then added, "what do you think now, 
Euth, about Miss Crosby? You used to say 
she was as homely as our old hedge-fence, 
and Miss Hawkins was a grand kind of hand- 
some, like a queen.” 


The Soldiers Aid Society. 125 

" Did I ever say that, Jenny ? I had for- 
gotten it,” replied Ruth, as her merry little 
laugh rippled out on the air. ” I never think 
whether Miss Crosby is handsome or not; 
but now you have spoken about it, I do re- 
member she has rather a funny little wad of 
hair behind, and her face is all over freckles ; 
but she has the dearest little mouth and the 
whitest teeth I ever saw.” 

"Well,” said Jenny, "now you have found 
Miss Crosby handsome ; has Miss Hawkins 
grown into the hedge-fence ? ” 

" Oh ! Jenny, do not let us talk about 
her ; I do not like to think of her. Let us 
step in, a minute, and see old Mary Shaw.” 

The old woman was sitting alone, by her 
window, with an open letter in her lap. 
Her eyes were shut, and her spectacles were 
just dropping off her nose, as she nodded. 
Ruth caught them gently, but the rustle of 
her dress awoke the old woman. 


126 


His Jewels, 


” Why, Miss Ruth, is that you ? it is queer 
you happened in just now. No, ’tain’t, 
neither ; ’tain’t queer, for I was just a-pray- 
ing somehody’d come in and read this letter 
to me ; and you didn’t happen, because the 
Lord sent you ! I wonder when old Mary 
will ever talk straight ! But who’s that side 
er ye ? ” 

"This is my friend, Jane Mortimer,” re- 
plied Ruth. 

"Jane Mortimer,” repeated the old woman ; 
"oh, yes, I knew her father, — looks like 
him, some,” she said, putting on her spec- 
tacles. "I wonder if she takes after him! 
Be you one of the Lord’s lambs, dear? ” 

" I don’t know, Mrs. Shaw,” faltered 
Jenny; "I’m afraid not.” 

"Not one "of the Lord’s lambs, and you 
so many years grown? May the Good 
Shepherd have mercy on ye, before yer old, 
like Mary ! ” and then looking at Ruth, 


The Soldiers Aid Society, 127 

whose eyes had filled with tears, as the old 
woman spoke so pitifully, said, " Well, 
Euthie, we must pray for her; and we’ll 
ask the Lord ter make ’er one o’ his lambs. 
Not one o’ his lambs ? Poor thing ! ” and 
the tears ran down the old woman’s face. 

Euth saw it was getting too painful for 
Jenny, and to divert the old woman’s mind, 
took up the letter, and said, — 

” Shall I read this now, Mrs. Shaw?” 

” Why, yes,” she replied ; " what that dear 
young thing said, like ter put it out er my 
head. Here it is.” 

It was a letter from her son, in the army, 
and full of tender memories of home, and 
glowing accounts of his regiment. He had 
not been in battle, but he was ready to stand 
up for the old flag, etc. 

Old Mary wiped her eyes many times, 
and murmured approbation at the spirit of 
the letter. As Euth finished, she said, — 


128 


His Jewels, 


”He’s such a good boy, — I didn’t want 
him to go ; but the Lord ’ll take care of him. 
Now, Miss Euthie, my eyes are so dim, if 
■you would just read me — no, the other 
young lady ; if she will just read me one 
of these psalms, maybe the Lord will let 
a little light into her soul.” 

Jenny sat at her feet and read the Nine- 
teenth and Twenty-third Psalms, and then 
they rose to leave. 

"Wait a minute. Where’s that little 
hymn Miss Crosby cut out for me? Oh, 
there ’tis^ there, ^iiss Euthie, you may take 
that home with you, and read it, if you’ll 
bring it back. Do, both of you, come and 
see me again. It is so like a cool breeze, 
this hot day, to see yer.” 

As they were going out, Jenny heard her 
saying to herself, "Not one of the Lord’s 
lambs ! Poor, poor thing ! ” Euth did not 
speak of •it; although Jenny’s eyes filled 
with tears. 


The Soldiers' Aid Society, 129 

At any rate, Jenny’s feet often pressed that 
little footpath after that, and every night a 
prayer went up from that lowly cottage, that 
the Good Shepherd would bring the lost one 
into his fold. 

” And when he had taken the book, the four 
beasts and four and twenty elders fell down 
before the Lamb, having every one of them 
harps, and golden vials full of odors, which 
are the prayers of saints.” 


Chapter XV. 


SHE ^^SPEAKETH OFTEN” OF HIS LOVE. 


“ The day is past, and the darkness falls 
From the wings of the night, 

As a feather is wafted downwards 

From an eagle in his flight.” — Longfdlov}. 


T is sabbath twilight — the thinking 
hour — the jDraying hour. There 
comes a pause in the cares and labors of 
the day. The sun sinks beneath the horizon, 
and we begin to hear " the trailing garments 
of the night sweep through her marble halls. 

The books are laid aside, the pen pauses in 
writing, and one must cease from active labor 
until the evening lamps are lighted. I be- 
lieve only those are in haste for the lights, 
who do not like to reflect on the day that has 
passed. 

” Isaac went out to meditate at eventide,’’ 

( 130 ) 



His Love. 


131 

had been Mr. Stedman’s text that summer 
afternoon; and since the afternoon service, 
Euth had been reading aloud to Helen Eaton 
in Mrs. Charles worth’s "Ministry of Life.” 
But the sun had set, and the shadows were 
gathering over the letters ; so Helen reached 
out her thin hand and gently closed the book. 

Euth looked up and smiled. ”Oh, you 
little monitor, many thanks. It is true I do 
not want to lose my eyes just yet, even 
though Dr. Howe has made a Paradise for 
the blind people. 

" That reminds me to ask you. Miss Euth, 
if you have ever been there.” 

" Have I never told you about it, Helen ? 
I went out there one evening to see a blind 
friend of mine who was there for a little 
while, and he took me out to hear the chil- 
dren sing. They were in their little rocking 
boat in the back yard, and it was so dark I 
could not discern their faces. It seemed so 


132 


His Jewels, 


wonderful to think it was the same as day 
with them. The stars were shining down on 
them and they were warbling that charming 
song commencing, — 

“ Beautiful star, in heaven so bright, 

Softly falls thy silver light.” 

It seemed so sad, that the tears woidd keep 
falling, in spite of all my efforts — to hear 
them singing about the beautiful stars, when 
they could not see them.” 

"They will see them all by and by, 
though,” exclaimed Helen. "Oh, what a 
thing it must be to see heaven, before seeing 
this world. To have the first view so 
glorious ! ” and as she spoke, she closed her 
own eyes as if she herself could see it by 
shutting out the world. 

" Oh, Kuth,” cried out Jenny, opening the 
door, "you must come out in the garden. 
The clouds are beautiful ; and the air is as 
cool and soft as May.” 


His Love, 


133 


''Yes, Jenny, in a minute; I have been 
telling Helen about the Blind Asylum, at 
South Boston.” 

" Did you tell her about that motto some 
one suggested to have on the wall, at one 
of their musical exhibitions?” 

" No, Jenny ; what was it?” 

" ' Music is light in darkness ! ’ ” replied 
Jenny. I tried to find out who it was 
suggested it, but I could not. I think that 
they would almost die of sorrow, if it were 
not for music. They have organs there, and 
a band, and a great many pianos also, for 
the blind pupils to practise on. But are 
you ready, Euth? We are losing all this 
beautiful twilight.” 

Euth responded by putting on her hat, 
and opening the door. The two girls went 
out of the house arm in arm. The birds 
were singing their evening song; and the 
yellow lights from the west, shone on the 


134 


His Jewels. 


grass and trees, and made the river a golden 
hand in the distance. 

” Come, Kuthie, come up in the grove, 
behind the house ; we can see the best of 
the view from there, and can sit on the 
rocks.” 

Mrs. Mortimer stood at her chamber win- 
dow, and smiled to herself, as her ear caught 
the last remark. "They cannot see what I 
call the best of the view,” she thought. 

"Here, Jenny, here is such a nice rock; 
and the vines are hanging over it from the 
trees above, so it looks like a fairy’s bower ; 
and here is the green moss for your feet, and 
for me,” she said, with a laughing gesture 
of humility. " Oh ! Euth, it is so beautiful ! 
See’ where the river gleams through the 
trees there. How can heaven be more 
beautiful ? ” 

"'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, — 
neither have entered into the heart of man, 


His Love, 


135 


the things which God hath prepared for them 
that love him,’ ” repeated Ruth, solemnly. 

” And how are we to tell if we love him ? ” 
queried Jenny. 

" There is your mother’s face at the win- 
dow — how can you tell whether you love 
her, or not?” 

”It is a part of my being, to love her,” 
replied Jenny. "I suppose the love first 
came from her loving me.” 

” We love him, because he first loved 
us, too.” 

” But, Ruth, when I disobeyed my mother, 
she always forgave me, and I never was 
afraid to tell her when I had done wrong; 
but I fear to pray, when my heart is 
wrong.” 

” Jenny, dear,” said Ruth, laying her 
hand on hers, and looking up, with her 
blue eyes full of tears, ”why need one 
pray, if one’s heart is all right? And has 


136 


His Jewels, 


not our Father promised to forgive our sins, 
if we only confess, and forsake them?” 

”I know it, Euth; and you are a dear, 
sweet little angel; and I have no doubt 
there is a harp in heaven waiting for you,” 
she said, lightly ; but then, changing her 
tone, suddenly, she added, ”but I cannot 
see my way there ! ” and Jenny covered her 
face with her hands. 

Euth was really distressed; she thought 
she knew how to show the way to heaven. 
She had even been thinking, that very morn- 
ing,- what she could say to one who was 
asking it ; but now the time was come, the 
words failed her. Putting her arm around 
Jenny, she could only whisper, — 

" Jenny, I will pray for you ! ” 

Jenny raised her drooping head, and mur- 
mured her thanks. "I shall come out bright 
yet, perhaps, Euth, but I feel as if it must 
be through much tribulation. I fear I shall 


His Love, 


137 


never come to God in the sunshine ; but just 
as the clouds have gathered, and the storm 
breaks over my head, I shall cry, 'Lord, save 
me, or I perish.’ I have been trying to find 
him ever since that little prayer-meeting you 
asked me to come to. Mr. Stedman says 
my doctrine about good works is the evil be- 
tween me and Christ; but what can I do? 
I have been taught all my life to believe that 
doctrine, and I cannot see the new way 
clearly. I know there is something wanting 
in my heart, but I cannot tell what it is.” 

"It is getting damp here, Jenny ; let us go 
and sit on the piazza steps ; ” and taking her 
arm in hers, Euth led her down the hill. 

" Jenny, I think I know what is wanting in 
your heart : it is Christ. Christ in you, thox 
hope of glory.” 

" It seems as if it must be so, but I cannot 
grasp it. I believe him to have been a per- 
fect man, and I love liim for his goodness and 


His jewels. 


138 

purity, and I try to follow him, by doing a 
little good to mankind, and loving nature, 
and music, and all things he has made.” 

Euth was silent. It was so hard to know 
what she ought to say, and she was so fearful 
she would only shadow the light. 

did not mean to tell any one of the 
dread of evil which continually haunts me. 
I thiuk it is because I have already had such 
heavy trials that it keeps me fearful. But,” 
she exclaimed, rising from her seat in her 
enthusiasm, "if the sun would only be sure 
of coming afterwards, I would not heed the 
storm ; ” and then, without adding more, she 
passed into the house. 

Euth went up into her little chamber, and 
taking her Bible in her hand, knelt by her 
bedside. 

"Father in heaven, I am insufficient for 
these things ; oh, give me wisdom, that I 
may know what to answer when my faith is 


His Love, 


139 


called ill question. And for thy name’s sake, 
may that dear one whom I love so much, be 
brought to see Jesus Christ as he is.” 

Euth was comforted; she rose from her 
knees, with an inward sense that the Lord 
had heard her, and would make her strength 
sufficient unto her day. Then she went down 
stairs, and taking her harp, began to sing 
PleyeFs Hymn, ” Jesus, lover of my soul.” 

Jane was with Helen, getting her ready for 
the night. Helen caught the distant strains 
of music, and begged her to open the door. 
Jane did as she asked her, and then sat down 
beside her to listen. The music floated up 
from below, and Euth’s voice was so clear, 
that not a word was lost. She had just come 
from Jesus’ feet, and sang as if every word 
was from her inmost heart. Helen listened 
with her eyes closed, but as the last notes 
died away on the air, she opened her eyes 
and whispered, ” It was so like the angels ; 


1 40 His Jewels, 

now I can sleep. It has taken away the 
pain.” 

Jenny went to the window, but a gust of 
night wind came in and made her shiver, and 
she drew back and silently finished her task, 
and left Helen sleeping. 


Chapter XVI. 


HOME FROM THE WAR. 

“ Mourn, mourn, oh, autumn winds. 

Lament and mourn ! 

How many half-blown buds must close and die ? 

Hopes with the summer born. 

All faded lie, 

And leave us desolate, and earth forlorn. 

— 3Iiss Proctor. 

T was the first part of the winter of 
1861. The leaves had fallen in their 
radiant beauty, and lay brown and dead on 
the dry grass. A few beech leaves flecked 
the distant pines like sunlight, but all else 
seemed dead or dying. The clouds were 
gray, and the wind seemed talking to the 
trees of the coming winter, for they trembled 
and shook in every limb. 

Little Ruth was coming home alone from 
the " Soldiers’ Aid Society.” Her arms were’ 
aching, and her head was full of weary, 
dreary thouglits. ( 141 ) 



142 . His Jewels. 

” It seems to me the world is full of sor- 
row ; the Northern men are falling like these 
leaves, and the people crush them as heed- 
lessly,” she soliloquized. " I am so tired 
waiting. It seems as if the war never would 
come to an end. A battle only makes each 
side more determined than ever. Ah, well,” 
she murmured aloud, "he is in God’s hands, 
and without his notice a hair cannot fall from 
his head.” 

A rustle among the leaves, a parting of 
the branches, and a strong arm is thrown 
about her, and Willie’s cheek touches hers. 

" It is true, Kuth ; I was in God’s hands, 
and He has brought me back to you.” 

The sudden thrill of joy was almost more 
than she could bear, and the tears fell from 
her eyes like rain. 

Her brother was at first alarmed, ^and 
feared she would suffer from 'his hastiness ; 
but she soon regained her self-possession, 


Home from the War, 143 

and they walked along together towards 
their home. 

” What does it all mean ? ” she asked ; 
"have you a furlough? How did you get 
it ? Did you come in this last train ? 

"Yes; it means I have a furlough, and I 
have just come, my sister. Was that all?” 

"Ah, Willie, I am afraid you have not 
told me all. Why do you keep that hand 
behind you ? Is that all right ? ” 

"It is only a little scratch,” he replied, 
removing his hand, and showing her the 
bandage. 

"Willie, you’re wounded. Why didn’t 
you send us word before ; and what do 
you mean by 'only a scratch’?” and as 
Euth spoke, her face flushed, and her blue 
eyes looked up imploringly in her brother’s 
face. 

"Well, Euthie, I will tell you just how 
it was. I was sitting in a tent doing some 


144 Jewels, 

writing, when there came a sudden whiz in 
the air, and a shell exploded close bj us. 
Part of it entered the tent, and one little 
piece came and wrote me a furlough. All 
the harm it does, is to deprive Uncle Sam of 
my services for a little while.” 

Kuth drew a long sigh of relief as her 
brother took this cheery view of the subject. 

"Will, I am so glad to see you back, but 
so sorry such a reason had to bring you, that 
I do not know whether to be most sorry or 
glad. But here comes Jenny.” 

" Miss Mortimer, shall I have the pleasure 
of introducing you to Captain Campbell ? ” 

" Why, William Campbell ! ” exclaimed 
Jenny, as she hastened to meet him, " when 
did you come ? ” 

" He came in the last train, Jenny ; he is 
a wounded soldier, and we must take him in 
and give him oil and wine,” said Kuth, 
earnestly, and told his story. Her brother 


Home from the War. 145 

looked down admiringly at her, while she 
spoke of him with such enthusiasm. As 
they entered the house, Mrs. Mortimer came 
to greet him and welcome him home. 

Bridget opened the kitchen door — ” Sakes 
alive, if it ain’t Mister William ! ” — but she 
paused with a little awe at the tall, dignified 
form of the ofllcer in his uniform, but only 
a minute, for as soon as her young master 
caught sight of her he gave her a hearty 
greeting. 

'IWho’d a-thought it; and if his hand 
hain’t been wounded. Oh, that Bridget 
should live to see the day. And shure and 
how was Mr. McClelling a-willin’ you should 
leave his regiment ? ” 

” I’ll tell you all about it by and by,” re- 
plied the young soldier; "but my journey 
has tired me so much, I really must rest.” 

"How careless I am,” exclaimed Kuth, as 
she glanced at her brother’s pale face. " Come 


10 


1 46 His Jewels, 

right up into my room, where there is a fire ; 
you shall be ready in a very little while.” 

The soldier was cared for, and closed his 
eyes wearily as he lay on the lounge in Kuth’s 
room; and Bridget, in the kitchen, was 
hastily preparing "the supper which Mr. 
William always liked best ; ” and every little 
while she would stop and say, "I never! 
wounded, and home again ; ” and then her 
busy fingers would go faster than ever. 

The news spread like wildfire through the 
town, and the young officer being a general 
favorite, his name was in everybody’s mouth. 
He was the first officer from the town who 
had come home wounded, and was, of course, 
the hero of the day. 

When the children went by to school, they 
looked up at the windows to try and get a 
glimpse of his face. And the older ones 
walked slowly by the gate, thinldng, perhaps, 
to have a chance to greet him home. 


Home from the War, 147 

The girls took their bonnets down to see if 
they were all right for Sunday ; and the drill 
club had a special meeting, that they might 
have a successful parade in honor of the 
yoiing soldier. The band agreed upon a 
serenade, and the minister chose for his text, 
the following Sabbath, "The Lord shall cover 
his head in the day of battle.” 

When Captain Campbell had recovered 
from the fatigue of his journey, he doubly 
returned the hearty welcome which all the 
people had in waiting for him. 

After^church, Sabbath afternoon, the whole 
family were seated around the open fire ; and 
Ruth had been singing to them, accompany- 
ing: the words with the soft strains of her 
harp, when Mrs. Mortimer said, "William, 
we have not heard any of those war stories 
yet ; do you feel too tired to tell us one of 
them now ? ” 

" Oh, no,” he replied ; " I was just thinking 


1 48 His Jewels, 

of one this moment, and about a soldier you 
know — Herbert Wharton.” 

Jenny’s face was flushed a little by the fire ; 
so Kuth said, and asked her to take a seat by 
her ; then William began his story : — 

"We had been informed that the enemy 
were nearing us, and we must withdraw our- 
selves across the Potomac, with no loss of 
time, as our force was too small to compete 
with theirs. 

" Our Colonel,* who Was at that time com- 
manding the brigade, hurried us across with 
all possible speed. ^ 

"As we were resting from our tramp, — 
the Colonel and the officers, and some of the 
company, — the Colonel had just been telling 
a joke about a down-east friend of his, when 
suddenly his countenance changed, he whis- 
pered an inquiry to an officer who came up, 
and exclaimed, in an agonized tone, ' Good 
heavens ! what have we done ! Our pickets 


Home from the War, 149 

are up the river on the other side, not called 
in ! They are a hundred men as brave as our 
army contains, and if they are not told before 
the sun rises, they are dead. It is a wild 
risk ; who is willing to expose his life for his 
country and his comrades ? ’ 

” There was a pause for a moment, and we 
were all as still as death. Herbert Wharton 
sat on an old rock, with his newspaper in his 
hand, looking calmly on, and without a change 
of expression passing over his face. No one 
replied for a moment, when Herbert, putting 
down his paper, calmly said, ' I am ready ; 
I will go.’ 

"'You, Herbert!’ exclaimed the Colonel, 
'never I You are my right hand ; ’ and then 
the others gathered around him, looking at 
his unmoved face with admiration and awe ; 
and some of them 23ropo«ed three cheers. 

" Then Herbert turned and spoke : ' My 
comrades, this is not a time for cheering ; it 


His Jewels. 


150 

is a time for praying ; ’ then calling the 
Colonel aside, he asked for his orders. 

” The Colonel gave them, and then asked 
Herbert for messages to his friends ; and he 
left them, and also a few little keepsakes, in 
case he never returned. 

” The Colonel gave him a horse and persis- 
ted in sending his servant on another horse 
with him. 

' Good-bye, Herbert,’ said the Colonel, as 
he clasped his hand, and his voice trembled ; 
H, for one, shall not forget the praying — 
keep a good look out for our flag on the hill 
here, and you will not lose your way. Don’t 
spare your horse ; remember you are riding 
for your life.’ 

" The sun was just setting, and we watched 
the two riders until they had descended the 
hill and crossed the river. Then we saw, 
through the spy-glass, the servant coming 
back with his horse, and Herbert advancing 


Home from the War, 15 1 

alone. We watched him until he became a 
speck in the distance, and then went slowly 
back to our tents to wait anxiously for his 
return. 

''He had bidden good-bye to none of us, 
save the Colonel. His mind seemed to be 
entirely absorbed in his deathly errand, and 
we did not dare to accost him as he passed 
us. 

”We could have rent the air with cheers, 
with a hearty good will, too, but the time 
was unfit. 

" We felt as a man, who, after long watch- 
ing on shore, sees the wished for ship, and 
just as she seems coming into port, in spite 
of the waves and the storm, one great angry 
wave swells up from the depths, and with a 
sudden plunge, , she is crushed against the 
rocks. We none of us dared to hope to see 
him again. 

” The Colonel sat up all that long dreary 


152 


His jewels. 


night, and he did not return. It was a night 
to make the young man old, to blanch his 
hair and wear deep lines into his face. 

"I was watching, too, when suddenly a 
loud hurrah burst from the signal post, and 
in a moment every soldier was on the ground, 
and the cry, 'They are coming! they are 
coming I ’ burst from a thousand lips. 

"And there in truth they were. Herbert 
in front, and the hundred brave boys behind 
him. 

"They were soon across the river, and 
such a welcome as we gave them I never saw 
or heard before. The sudden transition from 
sorrow to joy almost unmanned the Colonel, 
and for a while he seemed like a little child ; 
he wept and laughed by turns, and his eyes 
followed Herbert wherever he went. 

"But there was something to do besides 
talking; and with a hearty good will we 
set to work to get their breakfast, and get 


Home from the War. 153 

their clothes dried, and fires made. Many 
a box from home was emptied, that the boys 
might have a treat ; and even the Colonel 
himself went into the cook-room to give 
especial orders about the cofiee. 

"Colonel — ^ says Wharton found an 

officer by going across the river whom he 
did not expect to find; that is Lieutenant 
Wharton, undoubtedly.” 

The fire had burned down unheeded, as 
William told his story. Jenny’s face was 
pale as death, and Euth’s cheeks were wet 
with tears, as he finished. Mrs. Mortimer 
murmured, " glorious ! ” and her face glowed 
with excitement and admiration. 

It was quite late then, and the soldier boy 
was weary, and with the glow of the story 
warming their hearts, they put out the lights 
and retired for the night. 


Chapter XVII 



ANOTHER JEWEL FOR HIS CROWN. 

“ What I don’t see, 

Don’t trouble me ; 

And what I see. 

Might trouble me, 

Did I not know 
It must be so.” — Goethe. 

ILLIE’S hand has healed, and he 
has gone back to the army. He 
does not seem so far away now ; 
he has been home once, and he has been in 
battle, and come out not hurt ; so I feel safer 
about him for the future. God has taken 
my father and my mother, and I am all alone 
in the world with Willie. Somehow I do 
not believe He will take him too. He is a 
merciful father, and* remembers the weak- 
nesses of his children — that we are but 
dust.” 

" If Willie should die, I feel that the Lord 


( 154 ) 


^ Another yew el for His Crown. 155 

would give me strength sufficient unto my 
day, but I know he will not willingly afflict 
me ; and in sorrow or joy, God giving me 
grace, I will try to be his faithful child. 

“ ‘ Er ist in Gottes hut, 

Er liebt ein treu soldaten blu|.’ ” 

Helen Eaton is fast fading away. These 
chilly winds are too much for her weak 
lungs; and I fear another angel is entering 
the open gate of heaven. Helen says that 
thought of the gate open day and night is 
such a cheering one to her. No matter 
whether death comes at noon or at mid- 
night, the gates of it shall not be shut at 
all by day, 'and there shall be no night 
there.’ ' 

"Sometimes I almost wish I was in her 
place, but I should not long for the crown 
when I have not been in battle. 

"There is a work for me to do in this 
world. Jenny has not taken Jesus Christ 


His Jewels. 


156 

as the way, the truth, and the life ; I must 
live and pray for her. Her good deeds and 
gentle words are like the perfume of the 
first flowers of spring, but it would take 
away all their charms if they said, 'You 
have got to take me because of my per- 
fume.’ I know my own heart is full of evil, 
and that my life is not half so much like 
a Christian’s as Jenny’s. I am sure when 
she does give up her self-trusty and take 
Jesus of Nazareth as her hope of glory, 
her light will shine far above mine. It is 
for that I must live and pray. 

" Then, there is my Sabbath-school class, 
my laughing Eose, and my golden-haired 
Kitty, and the other little hearts ; I must 
lead them to the loving Saviour, too. It is 
so sweet to tell them of Jesus, and how he 
would not let his disciples send the children 
away, but reached forth his hands to them, 
and said : ' Sufier the little children to come 


Another Jewel for His Crown. 157 

unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is 
the kingdom of heaven.’ There is one little 
one, of only six years, with a sad, pale face, 
and the blue veins showing painfully in her 
white temples. I fear she is marked for 
a child-angel, and I must teach her the sweet 
hosanna. 

"Then, there are Christ’s poor ones, of 
whom the world is full; and, 'Inasmuch as I 
do it unto one of the least of these, I do it 
unto him.’ How I wish I might realize this.' 
There is* another thing I am always for- 
getting, — that 'they who loved the Lord, 
spake often one to another.’ The sermon 
of Mr. Stedman, that evening, so long ago, 
I shall always remember; but somehow, 
when the time comes to practise it, I forget. 
I fear I shall never be counted among 'his 
jewels,’ unless I try to be more faithful than 
I have been. 

"When I began to write, I felt I was 


His Jewels, 


158 

ready to die and wished I was dying, instead 
of Helen. But how could I die, with all 
this work undone? Faith, without works, 
is dead. May God deliver me from this 
dead faith ! 

December 2bth, — Helen was to have 
been brought down stairs, to-day, to see 
the Christmas tree, and the Sabbath-school 
children. We were to have Christmas carols, 
and a lighted tree, and supper, and games 
for the children ; but Helen has gone to 
the better country — gone to see the Christ- 
child, face to face ; and instead of the carols, 
we have a funeral dirge; instead of the 
Christmas tree, there lies Helen’s coffin on 
the table ; and instead of the laughter of the 
children, all the cheeks are wet with tears. 
And yet, in sorrow we rejoice ; for, ' As in 
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all 
be made alive.’ 

^Hecember2Uh , — The house seems so de- 


Another Jewel for His Crown. 159 

sertecl. Helen required such constant care, 
that wc miss her all the more. I thought 
our Christmas Day would he so doleful; 
hut I think I never had a real Christmas in 
my heart before, as I had yesterday. 

” It was so queer. Mr. Stedman spoke/rom 
the very verse I had just written in my 
diary. He alluded to the day, and the hirth 
of Christ, his death and resurrection, and 
how, without him, we were sold under sin ; 
hut through him, all things were made new. 
And, as he rose from the dead, so all those 
that sleep in Jesus, shall rise ; and then we 
shall meet our lost ones ! And then he al- 
luded, so gently, to my father and mother, 
and then to our efforts in smoothing poor 
Helen’s thorny path to heaven. It was all 
through Jenny that she was brought here. 
I do not believe he knows it. I shall tell 
him when I see him again. 

” Helen looked so lovely, — like a parian 


i6o His Jewels, 

marble statue ; and her lips were just parted 
with a half smile, and her golden hair 
seemed like the reflection of the golden 
crown her spirit wears in heaven. 

” Love, rest, and home ! Farewell, sor- 
row, pain, and anxious care ! ” 


Chapter XYIII. 


A DULL JEWEL. 

“ Lo ! the height that I had taken, 

As so shining from below, 

Was a desolate, forsaken 
Region of perpetual snow.’» — Miss Proctor. 

! how the wind howls, and how 
inky black it looks,” murmured 
Miss Hawkins, as she drew aside the curtain 
to get a peep at the night. 

Her hearth was swept, and the air-tight 
stove filled the room with heat, though not 
'with cheerfulness. The small shadeless lamp 
stood on the pine table, and a gaunt old cat 
sat on the floor by his mistress’ . chair. The 
floor was uncarpeted, and the walls were 
painted white. A small looking-glass in a 
brown frame hung between the two front 
windows, and on the other side of the wall 



11 


( 161 ) 


1 62 His Jewels, 

hung a picture of the Massaq^e of the Inno- 
cents. 

Miss Hawkins left the window, poked the 
fire, adjusted the damper, and had just 
opened her Book of Martyrs to read, when a 
knock came on the door. 

"Well, I declare; if that is not alj^ays 
the way.” It was not always the way, the 
old cat would have said if she could have 
spoken ; for Miss Hawkins’ visitors w^ere by 
no means numerous. 

The knock was followed by the entrance 
of Miss Crosby. She had on her fur-lined 
waterproof, and the hood came close around 
her face. 

Miss Hawkins always knew when she saw 
this cloak, that some work was going on, and 
pricked up her ears and cocked her head, for 
she eagerly sought every work of charity. 

"Well, now, Miss Crosby, what is in the 
wind to-night ? Here, come and toast your 
feet and tell me.” 


A Dull Jewel. 


163 

” I think, Miss Hawkins, there is a storm 
in the wind, and I think,” she added, 
solemnly, "there is death too. Old Mary is 
Very ill, and I was with her all last night and 
to-day. I would gladly stay longer, but I 
must carry those blankets to the Browns, and 
then I shall be too weary.” 

" Now, Miss Crosby, don’t you go to talk- 
ing about such a thing. You will get clean 
run out before the week is over. Of course 
I am ready, and I’ll go. But why don’t you 
ask any of those young ones ? There’s Jane 
Mortimer and Ruth Campbell, and a dozen 
others, a great deal better able to go than 
you or I, and they get more thanks for what 
they do, too. They just curl their hair and 
go out for a walk to show their pretty faces, 
and on their way back they stop a half an 
hour to read to her, out of some novel, I 
believe, of some heathen foreigners, and then 
she is very grateful and says they are angels, 


164 


His Jewels. 


and really seems to think they are. Then I 
leave my warm house here, and go out in 
the cold night, and sit up with her, and give 
her good advice, which my experience war- 
rants my ability to do, and she does not care 
any more for me than for her milkman,’^ 

Miss Crosby looked a little wonderingly at 
Miss Hawkins as she spoke, and then said, 
playfully,— ^ 

"Oh, well, when they are as old as you 
and I, perhaps they will be equally good. 
But good-evening ; I am sure Mary must ap- 
preciate your sacrifice to-night.” 

Miss Crosby passed out, but as she opened 
the door, a fierce wind rushed in and made 
Miss Hawkins shiver. 

" It is a good night to go,” she muttered, 
as she shut the door. " There’s no merit in 
going out in a moonlight summer evening; 
but such a night as this — well, old cat. I’ll 
tell you one thing, there are not many people 
who would do it.” 


A Dtill Jewel. 


165 

So with a little grim look of satisfaction, 
she put her martyr-book on the shelf ; then 
she shut up her stove, put jon her hood and 
shawl, blew out the lamp, and passed out 
into the raw wind and piercing cold. 

Old Mary was sleeping quietly as Miss 
Hawkins opened the door. She closed it 
gently behind her, and took off her hood, 
muttering, ” All bosh ! what did they send 
for me for? I haven’t slept like that for 
nights and nights.” 

She still kept her shawl on, for the room 
was .cold. As she was putting wood in the 
stove, one stick fell down, and, to Miss 
Hawkins’ extreme disgust, the noise awoke 
the invalid. She moaned uneasily, and 
said, ” Jenny Mortimer.” 

''Well, I guess not, quite,” said Miss 
Hawkins, going up to her. 

Old Mary looked up, and recognized her, 
and murmured, "kind.” 


1 66 His Jewels, 

This softened Miss Hawkins’ heart a little, 
and she smoothed her pillow, and then com- 
menced to warm, old Mary’s drink. "VYhen 
it was warmed, she had gone to sleep again, 
and this vexed Miss Hawkins ; and then 
the wind blew down the chimney, and sent 
the smoke out, and this vexed her, too ; 
and as she by no means possessed a quieting 
disposition, her feelings soon reached their 
most irritable point. 

The storm had commenced, and the snow 
beat wildly against the window panes, and 
was fast blocking up the door. Miss Haw- 
kins sat down by the window and looked out. 

” Well, I do not see but what I am in for 
it, for a day^ or two. I hope somebody’ll 
give the old cat something to eat. I suppose 
she’ll miss me, if nobody else does. She 
called ' Jenny Mortimer ; ’ humph ! I’d like 
to see her here, making the fire burn, and 
smoking her pretty eyes ! Not she ! No 


A Dull Jewel, 


167 


doubt she’s close wrapped up in her eider 
down, taking her beauty sleep ; and yet she 
gets all the love. Who would have heard 
her calling my name, as the first waking 
thought. Well, that’s the way with people 
who do the most ; they get the least thanks.” 

With this summing up of the whole mat- 
ter, Miss Hawkins went to the bedside, and 
watched Mary’s breathing. In a moment 
she awoke, and meeting the great gray eyes 
fixed on her, gave a start, and a little 
nervous cry. 

” What’s the matter?” said Miss Hawkins, 
"did I frighten you?- I know my face isn’t 
so sweet as some ; bnt then again, it’s bet- 
ter ’n some.” 

"Oh ! not that,” said the old woman, lay- 
ing her thin hand gently on hers ; " it only 
startled me a little, that is all.” 

"How do you feel, now?” added Miss 
Hawkins ; " and how is your shoulder ? Do 


His Jewels, 


1 68 

you want some more clothes on, or do you 
want something to drink, or will you wait ? ” 
So many questions confused the sick brain, 
and she murmured, "clothes,” instead of 
drink, as she intended. And it so happened 
that she had over her all there was to be 
had; and so Miss Hawkins, with a martyr- 
like face, took off her shawl, and wrapped it 
over old Mary. 

" It isn’t any matter,” she said ; " I’ni not 
cold ; haven’t had but two very bad colds 
all winter ; tain’t as if I was a soldier, and 
had to sleep out o’ doors, not quite ; sorry 
I couldn’t make your fire burn better.” 

The careless allusion to the soldier roused 
old Mary from her lethargy,’ and her eyes 
brightened, and her voice sounded clearly, — 
" Poor, poor boy I God help him ! He’ll 
never see his mother no more. Tell him 
how much she longed arter him, and how 
his letters was better ’n medicine.” 


A Dull yewel 


169 


The effort was too much for old Mary, and 
she fainted. Then, when it was too late, • 
Miss Hawkins repented of her selfish care- 
lessness, and did all she could to revive her 
patient. She finally succeeded in a measure, 
for old Mary opened her eyes, and said, 
see him ; he’s dying of thirst ! Oh ! why 
can’t somebody give him some water ? ” Miss 
Hawkins took the cup by her side, and held 
it to. Mary’s lips, and said, in a soft voice, — 

" I have all I want, mother ; take some for 
yourself.” 

The old woman drank it ^agerly, then fell 
back on her pillow asleep. 

The wind had changed, and the opening 
of the window had cleared out the smoke, 
and the fire was burning briskly; so Miss 
Hawkins sat down with a sigh of relief. 
She sat there for a long time, when she 
thought she heard Mary speak, and went 
to her, but she seemed sleeping. In a 


1 70 His Jewels. 

moment her lips moved again, and Miss 
H. bent to catch the sound. '"They shall 
hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; ” 
but she did not awake. 

The morning came. The windows were 
covered with snow, and the storm was still 
beating against them. The great trees 
rocked in the wind, and brushed their 
great branches over the cottage roof. 

Mary seemed still sleeping. Miss Haw- 
kins rubbed her eyes, looked at her watch 
and the light, and found to her surprise that 
she had been sleeping too. She rose quickly 
and went to the bedside. 

” Can it be she has slept so long ? ” Then 
a shudder passed over her, and she bent her 
ear to listen. There was no sound of breath- 
ing. She lifted the hand, it fell powerless. 

Miss Hawkins grew sober as she looked 
at her face. She feared she had passed 
away as she was sleeping. She must have 


A Dull Jewel, 


171 

been sicker than she thought she was. 
Then she took up the Bible that lay by 
Mary, and, going away from the bedside, 
sat down and began to read. She only read 
a chapter this morning. She always had 
read four, for years; but this morning she 
thought she would wait and read the rest at 
night. There seemed to be enough thought 
in one, this morning. She ate a little piece 
of bread she cut off from a loaf in the little 
closet, and then looked out of the window 
at the snow. 


Chapter XIX. 


THE ACCIDENT. 

“ He prayeth best who loveth best, 
All things, both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loTeth us. 
He made and loreth all.” 



T was such a dreary watching. The 


storm still beat on, and no signs of 
life were visible within or without. 

Just at nine there came a little pause in 
the storm, and a shadow passed by the win- 
dow. Miss Hawkins* started. She had just 
begun to give herself up as a martyr. The 
door opened gently, and Jenny Mortimer’s 
bright face peeped in. She stepped softly 
at first, saying, " she is asleep ; ” then went 
towards the bed, and, dropping on her 
knees, hid her face in the coverlet and 
wept. 


( 172 ) 


The Accident. 


173 


Miss Hawkins looked at her wonderingly. 
” Did she really love her ? I have not shed 
a tear. It must have been that.” 

Ah, Miss Hawkins, you have found the 
secret. Would that it might be buried in 
your soul, and spring up and bring forth 
loving words and gentle deeds ; but it must 
wait. It is there — the time will come. You 
are well paid for your weary hours of watch- 
iug, although you know it not. 

Jane rose from her knees and looked more 
attentively at the still face ; then she lifted 
the quilt and laid her hand gently on the 
old woman’s heart. Her face suddenly 
changed, and, going up to Miss Hawkins, 
she whispered, "Her heart beats, I am sure ; 
I am going for the doctor.” 

Before Miss Hawkins could speak, she 
was out of the house, and she did not hear 
whei> she was called to come back. 

Miss Hawkins shut the door, and murmur- 


174 Jewels, 

ing, ” strange, strange child I ” went back to 
her seat in the window. 

In about half an hour sleigh-bells were 
heard, and Jenny alighted with the doctor. 
He tied his horse, shook the snow off, and 
entered the low door. Then he went up to 
the old woman’s bedside, felt of her pulse, 
knd laid his hand on her heart. Jenny 
looked anxiously in his face all the time. He 
turned and looked at her and smiled. " She 
is living,” he murmured, " and we will restore 
her. She has fallen into a stupor which is 
very unusual, but not wholly unknown.’ 
Then the doctor labored over her for about 
two hours, Jenny flitting here and there, 
doing his commissions. 

Miss Hawkins still kept her seat, looking 
on with a kind of grim satisfaction, which 
seemed to say; ”Well, I’ve been watching 
all night, you might as well take your turn.’’ 

" Have you any hartshorn? ” said the 
doctor, looking round at her. 


The Accident, 


175 

”No,” she replied shortly; "never use it; 
don’t think it is a proper thing.” 

" What is it, Doctor ? ” said Jenny, eagerly. 
"I’ll take the horse and go for it.” 

The doctor looked down at her eloquent 
face with admiration, and said : " Do you 
think you could take iny horse and sleigh and 
go and ask my wife for the ammonia which 
is on the third shelf in my closet? I cannot 
possibly leave now ; I fear I must have it.” 

" I will try. Doctor,” said Jenny ; and in a 

% 

few minutes her will was making way for her 
through the snow, She held the reins 
tightly, and the gay little horse, as if in 
sympathy with the spirit of its mistress, flew 
like a bird over the snow. 

Just as she was coming in sight of the- 
doctor’s house, she found she must pass some 
boys who were snow-balling from one side of 
the street to the other. She called out to 
them to stop a minute, but it was too late. 


176 His Jewels, 

The wind carried off her words in the other 
direction, and just as she thought she was 
safe, a hard snowball came whizzing through 
the air and hit the horse’s eye. Excited 
and maddened, he sprang forward, and Jenny 
strove in vain to hold him in. 

On — on — on — past the doctor’s house, 
past the next, the next, down the hill, over 
the bridge, until even Jenny’s cool head 
began to grow dizzy, and her hand slackened 
its hold of the reins. • 

Now they are coming to the railroad cross- 
ing. There is a whistle. Oh, horror of 
horrors ! there is the engine, and it is too 
late ! A rush, a whiz, a jar, and the cars 
have passed. The horse is safe on the other 
side of the track, and has strangely stopped. 
Where is Jane? With a wild cry to heaven, 
and one bound, she had sprung from the 
sleigh, and she is lying in the snow on this 
side of the track. 


The Accide^it. 


177 


Take her up gently, Matthew King, and 
carry her into the station, for she is a 
precious burden; and Charlie Edson, take 
the horse — you know whose it is — he is 
quiet enough now, and go for the doctor. 

As the people gathered round her, and 
they were carrying her insensible into the 
station, she opened her eyes and said, 
"Where am I?” They told her, and she 
said, " Oh, don’t take me there ; she will die, 
if she does not have it.” Then she* sighed 
and closed her eyes heavily. 

They took her in and laid her on a sofa, 
unloosened her bonnet, and bathed her head 
with camphor. She recovered rapidly, and 
eagerly asked what had happened to the 
horse, and if any one else had gone to the 
doctor’s. When told that it was all right, she 
drew a long breath of relief and asked how 
soon they would be back, that she might go. 

Just at this moment the door opened, and 


12 


178 


His Jewels. 


the anxious face of the doctor appeared. 
Jenny looked up eagerly. ” Oh, doctor, is she 
better? Has she got it? I am so sorry it 
happened so.” 

The doctor smiled and went up to her. 
” Heaven be praised,” he murmured, ”it was 
so near. Why my child, you look as if 
nothing had happened. Are you hurt any- 
where ? ” 

"How is she, doctor?” repeated Jenny, dis- 
regarding his question. 

" Who ? Oh, Mrs. ^haw ! She is all right ; 
she has opened her eyes and recognized me. 
What a faithful clerk you would make. But 
you have not told me whether you are hurt ; 
you are my patient now.” 

" Oh, I am so glad ! She will get well now, 
and Henry will be so happy to .get the news.” 

"Have you stood up yet, Jenny, and are 
you ready for me to take you home ? ” 

" Yes, doctor, all right,” she replied, and 


The Accident. 


179 


41 

stood up ; but when she tried to walk, her 
strength failed her, and she caught the doc- 
tor’s arm, saying, ”It did frighten me some. 
Doctor. I fear 1 am not quite strong enough 
to go alone ; but if you will help me, I would 
so much like to get home, away from here ; ” 
and as she spoke she shuddered slightly. 

”Oh, yes; we will help you, poor little 
lamb!” said a gentle, sweet voice. Jenny 
looked up in surprise, and saw Miss Crosby. 
With a grateful look, she took the proffered 
help. 

" Well,” said Matthew King, ” if that wo- 
man don’t beat all I ever see I I believe 
she’s above the rest of us in this world. 
She’s always ‘on hand when anybody’s in 
trouble — wonder how she heard of it.” 

” Yes,” responded the little cake-seller, as 
she looked out of the window after them, 
” that’s just the sudden way she popped up 
when Johnny broke his leg last summer.” 


1 8o His Jewels. 

”He said he hadn’t seen her before and 
there wasn’t nobody round, but the first thing 
he knew, he saw the tree falling right on to 
him, and then Miss Crosby was carrying him 
home.” 

” I shouldn’t wonder if she was a mejum, ’ 
croaked an old man who had not before 
spoken. 

" You just shet up there, Abram,” said his 
wife, giving him a nudge with her elbow. 
” You’re too old to be talking such childish 
stuff; you that bin bring’d up to foller the 
Lord and believe in his blessed word, go to 
talking like them heathen servants of the 
advasary. Ain’t you ashamed of yourself, 
and you’re cornin’ near being ’pointed deacon, 
too ! ” 

The old man cowered before his weaker 
vessel, and she went on : — 

” If I ever hear you saying such unscript- 
oral words as them. I’ll — I’ll read you the 


The Accident 


i8i 


story of Saul, and get some David to gome 
and play on his harp.” 

I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” whimpered 
the old man. ” What was it we was a-talk- 
ing about ? Ain’t it most time for them cars 
to come?” 

” Don’t know what you was a-talkiug 
about? We were talking about that good 
woman who was here in the depot just now ; 
how she was allars on hand whenever the 
Lord’s work was to be done ; hoV she didn’t 
keep ruimin’ on after new doctrines and de- 
vices of the evil one, but kept straight ahead, 
never looking to herself, but allars to the 
Lord and his work, just as one o’ his ser- 
vants orter.” 

« Why, so we was,” said the old man, and 
the others smiled. Just then the whistle 
came, and the conversation was interrupted. 


Chapter XX. 


OLD MARY’S COTTAGE. 

“ Light above light, and bliss beyond bliss, 

Whom words cannot utter : Lo ! who is this ? 

As a king, with many crowns, he stands, 

And our names are graven upon his hands.” 

— Christina Rosetti. 

iug into old 
s, and she is 
sitting np in bed, well bolstered with pil- 
lows, and looking as happy and tranquil as 
possible. A little pot, with a monthly rose, 
in full flower, sits in the window ; and Mary’s 
Bible is open on the table, with a well-worn 
letter from her soldier-boy lying on it ; Miss 
Crosby is sitting by the fire, knitting, and 
the whole room is a picture of perfect com- 
fort and peace. 

”What a good girl that Jane is,” said 

Mrs. Shaw. ” They say she came to see 

( 182 ) 


HE warm sun is shii 
Mary’s cottage window? 


Old Mary s Cottage, 


183 


me every day I was on my back. I often 
dreamed about her, and woke up surprised 
to find she war n’t here.” 

Miss Crosby laid down her knitting, and 
looked up with a smile, saying, — 

” Yes ; and she came very near losing her 
life once when she was laboring for you.” 

'' Losing her life ! ” exclaimed old Mary, 
with a look of horror. ” How was it ? ” 

"I think,” pursued Miss Crosby, "that 
you aj*e strong enough to hear it now, al- 
though we did not think you were before.” 
And then she went on to give the whole 
account of Jenny’s wild ride. 

Old Mary’s eyes were fixed attentively on 
her, and at first she often interrupted her 
with such expressions as " I want to know,” 
" Do tell,” etc. ; but she soon became too 
absorbed in the story to speak, and she 
wiped her eyes vigorously. As Miss 
Crosby finished, the first question was, — 


184 His Jewels, 

" The dear little lamb ! and how is she 
now? I wondered she hadn’t a bin in ter 
see me these days, since I got better; she 
came so often before, I thought there must 
be something special a-keepin’ of her.” 

”It is a week since then,” said Miss 
Crosby, ” and she is almost well. She 
was not hurt, but very much excited, and 
the doctor ordered her to be perfectly quiet 
for a while.” 

"The dear thing !” exclaimed Mrs. Shaw. 
" I never felt so happified as when I used to 
see her come into the room. I do hope it 
wont hurt her. Now, if there ain’t a knock ! 
Shall I trouble ye to open the door ? ” 

Miss Crosby opened it, and a gentleman 
followed her into the invalid’s room. 

"Why, Mr. Stedman, I wanter know if 
you hev* taken all this long walk again so 
soon, just ter see an ole woman.” 

Mr. Stedman was beloved by all his 


Old Mary s Collage. 185 

parish, young and old. The children al- 
ways carried the first wild flowers of spring 
to him; and the aged and the sick always 
welcomed him when they would see no one 
else. The young men of his congregation 
were always sure of finding in him a friend 
in need; and he had encouraged many a 
one, who was ready to perish, to be honest 
and virtuous. This was his first parish, and 
he had entered upon his labors with many 
a misgiving on account of his youth and in- 
experience ; but he had long studied the 
human heart, and as his own was full of the 
love of the Saviour, he stood at his right 
hand that he should not be moved. He 
would play jackstraws for an hour at a time 
with poor lame Jessy, and then go home 
and write a sermon which would thrill all 
his congregation by its depth and power. 
He was gentle, yet firm ; serious in manner, 
but with a ready appreciation of true wit, 


1 86 His Jewels. 

and possessing withal a quiet humor of his 
own. 

”Yes, Mrs. Shaw, I have taken this long 
walk on purpose to see you. It has given 
me great pleasure to hear you are so much 
better. You must have come very near the 
pearly gates ; but the Good Shepherd has 
spared your prayers to us a little longer.” 

"The Lord is merciful and gracious,” re- 
sponded old Mary. " I was willing to go 
with him through the Valley of the Shadow 
of Death, but it did seem so hard to die 
without getting a last look at my poor 
soldier-boy. It would a been so hard for 
him to come back and find the old cottage 
empty; and, then, how could I leave him 
and he not one of the Lord’s own children ! ” 

" How can that be ? ” said Mr. Stedmau ; 
" if you have prayed for him day and night 
all these years, and have had faith that God 
would hear your prayers, would you be siir- 


i87 


Old Mary s Cottage, 

prised to get a letter from him now any 
time, saying that he was seeking the Lord?” 

Old Mary’s face brightened. ” Suiprised ! 
Why, Mr. Stedman, my only surprise is 
that it has not come before ; and every 
letter I get, I expect to find it, and am 
disappointed that I have not heard it yet; 
for has not the good Lord promised, ' What- 
soever we ask, believing, we shall* receive ? ’ 
and it would not be believing if I did not 
expect it.” 

Mr. Stedman put his hand in his pocket, 
and, taking out a letter, said, "I have just 
received this from your boy by the last 
mail, and came to read it to you. Will 
you hear it now?” 

”Oh, yes, sir ! And why should he write 
to you ? Indeed I feel almost as if the glad 
time had come ! ” 

Mr. Stedman opened the letter and read 
in a clear, low voice as follows : — 


i88 ■ 


His jewels. 


” ' My dear Pastor : I promised to wi’ite to 
you when I was to home, and now I feel 
as if I must tell you about what times we 
are having down here in the army. We 
have prayer-meetings every night, and some 
of the soldiers as was very wicked and reck- 
less, has come right out to be Christians. I 
went to one last night, and our captain, he’s 
a real Christian man, he came right in with 
us, and he talked with us about our mothers 
at home, and how they was a-prayin’ and a- 
prayin’ for us, and how the Saviour had been 
a waitin’ for years for us, and we hedn’t 
come. 

"'Well, you see, almost before I knowed 
it the tears was a runnin’ down my cheeks. 
Then I see the feller next me a nudgin’ the 
next one, and lookin’ at me, and I begun to 
feel a little vexed ; but then the captain went 
on to tell about the Lord, and the nails bein’ 
driven into his flesh, and that made me think 


Old Mary s Cottage, 


189 


o’ when I was wounded ; and as I thought 
how it was all for me, I forgot there were 
anybody else in the room; and when the 
captain stopped, I fell right down on my 
knees and prayed and prayed, until it 
seemed as if the Lord’s heart was getting 
tender toward me, and as if I could see him 
smilin’ down on me from the cross, and then 
I got up. 

"'Then I remembered where I was, and I 
see some of the soldiers was a-cryin’, and 
them as wasn’t looked as if they was a-goin’ 
to. Then I remembered how I hed been 
prayin’ before ’em, an ignorant fellow who 
never had took any part before ; but it 
seemed like I did not mind ’em. I felt 
just like singin’; and when the others com- 
menced 'All hail the power of Jesus’ name ! ’ 
I joined with ’em heart and voice as I never 
had before. 

"'Now, Mr. Stedman, I wouldn’t hev 


190 


His Jewels^ 


bothered you with all this, but I knew you 
used to take au interest in me, and as mother 
was sick, you could tell her better nor I 
could. I was afraid as how I might excite 
her too much. 

'"Do tell all my friends I hev come out 
on the Lord’s side, and am going to try to 
be his soldier ; and that the greatest wish of 
my heart is, that they should enlist under 
him too. 

" ' I suppose you know Mr. William Camp- 
bell is the captain I meant spoke to the 
meeting. 

" ' Give my love to my mother, and tell her 
God has heard her prayer. 

"'Your friend, 

"'Jerry Shaw.’” 

As Mr. Stedman laid down the letter, he 
looked at old Mary to see the effect of the 
news. Her face was covered with her hands. 


Old Marys Cottage. 191 

and the tears were trickling down between 
her fingers, while her lips moved silently as 
if in prayer. He went to the window and 
■ stood there examining the roses, that he 
might leave her to herself awhile. In a 
moment she looked up and called him, and 
he went back to her again. 

"Mr. Stedman, I thought my old heart 
was prepared for this ; but it is almost more 
joy than I can bear. Will you not thank 
the Lord for me?” 

The young pastor knelt by the old woman’s 
bedside and prayed earnestly, giving praise 
to the Lord, that he had heard the mother’s 
prayers, and saved her life to hear of -her 
son’s salvation. Then he prayed that he 
might be preserved from pestilence and 
death, and be brought back in health to unite 
his voice with hers in praising him who had 
redeemed them. And that at last they might 
together serve him in his kingdom above, 


192 His Jewels, 

where there should be no more war, no more 
sin, nor death. 

As he was praying, the door opened and 
Ruth Campbell entered the room. She stood 
still timidly until he had finished. Old Mrs. 
Shaw opened her eyes, and seeing her there, 
said, ” Ah, Ruth, is that you? My eyes are 
so dim I cannot jest see.” 

Ruth’s blushes were almost as deep as the 
roses she held in her hand, as she said, "Yes, 
Mrs. Shaw, and do forgive me for interrupt- 
ing you. It was very careless in me not to 
knock.” 

" Knock, child ! why should you knock ? 
Don^t I always tell you to come right in? 
Come here and see this letter.” 

Miss Crosby gave Ruth a kind greeting, and 
Mr. Stedman rose and oflTered her his seat. 

"Ko, I thank you, Mr. Stedman, I can 
only stop a minute ; I am on my w ay to take 
my music-lesson. I came, Mrs. Shaw, to 


Old Mary s Cottage, 


193 


bring you these roses from Jenny, with her 
love, and to tell you she is coming to see you 
as soon as she can.” 

As Ruth spoke, she took up the letter and 
gave the roses to the invalid. 

Mr. Stedman had gone over to talk to Miss 
Crosby, and old Mary watched Ruth’s face, 
as she became absorbed in the letter. 

As she finished it, she laid it again in her 
hand. " Oh, Mrs. Shaw, I am so glad to 
hear this ; and it was Willie who took charge 
of the meeting. How strange it all seems ! ” 

” Yes ; I can never be thankful enough to 
him for what he said, and for the good he is 
always a-trying to do my Jerry. May the 
Lord write his name in the - book of his re- 
membrance.” 

"I should like to stay longer, Mrs. Shaw, 
but I must be at Mr. Schumacher’s at three.” 

am sorry you must go so soon. Give 
my love to Miss Jane, and tell her I thank 


13 


194 


His Jewels, 


her very much for the roses, and am longing 
to see her. Good-bye.” 

" Good-bye,” responded Euth ; and the 
young lips touched the faded cheek gently, 
and then, with a passing bow to the other 
visitors, she left the room. 


Chapter XXI. 



RUTH^S STORY. 

“ I doubt if she said to you, much that could act 
As a thought or suggestion ; she did not attract, 

In the sense of the brilliant and wise, I infer ; 

’Twas her thinking of others, made you think of her.” 

— Mrs. E. B. Browning. 


ISS Ruth, I did not know before that 
you were such a rapid walker ! ” 

” Why, Mr. Stedman, excuse me, I did not 
know there was any one behind me.” 

had just about finished my call at 
Mrs. Shaw’s when you came in. I thought 
I would wait for you, and my walk would 
be less lonely — that is, if you have no 
objections to my company.” 

” O, no ! I have no fancy for walking 
alone ; although, now Jenny is sick, I am 
beginning to get used to it.” 


( 195 ) 


196 His Jewels, 

"How is your faith, Miss Eutli? Is it 
shining brighter and brighter unto the per- 
fect day ? ” 

"I really do not know what to say, Mr. 
Stedman. Sometimes it seems to me as if 
I was really treading in the Lord’s foot- 
steps ; and then again, I am afraid I am not 
laboring for his kingdom as I ought to be.” 

"We can of our own selves do nothing. 
Why, here is a text for us in the grass ! ” 
exclaimed Mr. Stedman, as he picked a little 
blue violet at his feet. " It is very adventur- 
ous to come out this cold weather. It has 
a humble mission, but it fulfils it; it does 
not try to be a rose, and we do not look for 
a rose’s beauty in it; but it has a superior 
charm, for it comes to us when there are no 
roses.” 

"And we are not obliged to admire it 
through an iron fence, for it grows at our 
feet,” added Kuth. 


Rutlis Story. 


197 

” Yes,” said Mr. Stedman ; " and we do 
not like the rose any the less because it has 
not the song of the bird; it has its per- 
fume, and the bird its song. There are 
diversities of gifts, but the same spirit. 
How is that little Sabbath-school class of 
yours ? ” 

” O, I enjoy it so much ! I really never 
knew before how many beautiful stories 
there were in the Bible ; and it is really 
quite a study to tell them in child-lan- 
guage. Some one told me, the other day, 
that they could not interest their Sabbath- 
school children in the Bible, §0 they told 
them fairy stories. It happened my next 
lesson was the story of ' Goliath, the giant ; ’ 
and I am sure, it is exciting as almost any 
fairy story I- ever read.” 

”Have you any objections. Miss Euth, to 
refresh my memory a little with it, and tell 
me how you told them ? ” 


198 


His Jewels, 


Ruth looked up at Mr. Stedman, with 
the little roguish dimples deepening around 
her mouth. 

" Really, are you in earnest ? ” 

"Why, yes,” said Mr. Stedman, laugh- 
ing ; " tell me.” 

"I told them,” said Ruth, "about the boy 
David, who used to play on a harp, and 
who used to take care of his father’s sheep, 
while three of his older brothers went to 
the war. Then I told them how the army 
of God’s children was on one mountain, 
and the army of their wicked enemies on 
another mountain, and a valley between; 
and how the great giant Goliath came out 
from the wicked army with a great hat of 
brass on his head, and a great spear in his 
hand, and cried out for some one to come 
and fight with him ; and when the children 
of Israel saw him, they were very much 
frightened, and did not know what to do. 


199 


Rutk^s Story. 

"David’s father wanted to send some 
things to his sons in the army ; so he got 
some one else to take care of his sheep, 
that David might carry them. He gave 
him some popped corn and bread for his 
brothers, and some cheese to carry to their 
captain. But, Mr. Stedman, is not that 
enough? We are almost at the house!” 

" Oh, no ! I want to hear the rest. Imag- 
ine I am the children.” 

Ruth laughed and went on ; — 

"David ran into the camp, and he was 
talking to his brothers when the great giant 
came out again ; and David saw him, and 
saw how afraid the people were of him ; and 
he heard them say whoever would kill him 
should be made very rich, and marry the 
king’s daughter. And David said, 'And 
who is this giant, that he should speak so 
to the army of God’s people?’ Then they 
brought David to the great king ; and David 


200 


His Jewels, 


told him that he had killed a lion and a bear, 
and he would do the same thing to the giant 
if the king would only let him try ; for the 
Lord had taken care of him one time, and 
he was sure he would another. 

” Then I told them how David put the 
stones in a sling and went out to meet the 
giant. And when Goliath saw the rosy- 
cheeked boy, he was very angry, and said 
he would kill him, and the wild beasts 
should eat him up. But David said, he 
came in God’s name, and the fight would 
show how his Lord would help him. Then 
the great giant rushed towards him; but 
David put his hand in his bag and took out 
a stone, and shot it through his sling, and 
the giant fell. Then David went and stood 
on him, and took his spear and cut off his 
head, and carried it to the king ; and all the 
people shouted, they were so glad ! And the 
king gave him his daughter for his wife, as he 


Rutlis Story. 201 

had promised he would give her to whoever 
killed the great giant. I believe that is all 
I told them ; but it* seems almost tame now ; 
when all their bright eyes were looking up 
into my face, I could tell it differently.” 

" I don’t know how you could tell it much 
better,” said Mr. Stedman ; " and I am very 
much obliged 'to you. I hope you will par- 
don me for asking you ; but I think I never 
realized before what a good story it Was. 
The clock is striking three, and here we are 
at the house. Good-bye, Miss Kuth ; ” and 
Mr. Stedman bowed and passed down the 
street, and she went into the house, and was 
soon deep in the mysteries of demi-semi- 
quavers. 

I wonder what the young pastor’s mind 
was upon? Ah, well, — 

“ For us all some sweet hope lies, 

Deeply buried from human eyes ; 

And in the hereafter angels may 
Roll the stone from its grave away.” 


Chapter XXII. 


NEWPORT. 



The broken "wing of the sparrow he binds in mid-air ; 

I am not now what I shall be in heaven, — then, soul, no more 
despair ! 

Remember the lowly Jesus, and wipe his feet with thy hair ! ” 

I —^ose Terry. 

'PHE winter snows melted, the river 
swelled, the grass sprung up, and 
the buds blossomed ; then came the full corn 
in the ear, and the fruit-laden trees ; but 
still the war raged on through seed-time and 
harvest. Many a noble brow lay covered 
with Southern earth, and the traitor grasses 
grew over many a nameless grave. 

William Campbell kept at his post through 
all the summer heat, always ready to give 
his hearty words of encouragement to all 
the down-hearted, and never asking any of 
his men to go where he woidd not go him- 


( 202 ) 


Newport, 


203 


self, — acting at the same time the part of 
chaplain, friend, and captain. 

His sister Euth wrote him long letters from 
the seaside, which he said came in on him 
like sea-breezes, and almost made him home- 
sick. 

Jane and Eut£ were spending a few weeks 
at Newport. Every day they had wild frolics 
in the surf, and moonlight evenings they had 
exhilarating horseback rides on the hard 
beach. Then sometimes in the long summer 
afternoons they would take their work and 
sit out on the rocks till sunset, watching the 
great waves as they broke on the shore, and 
listening to their solemn music. 

They did not envy the gaily dressed girls 
whD were driving down the avenue wrapped 
in laces and shining with diamonds ; or the 
heated dancers in the crowded drawing-rooms 
at the Ocean House. They loved their own 
quiet enjoyments, and with that great sound- 


204 


His Jewels, 


iiig sea they never felt alone. They joined 
picnic parties, and bathing parties, often, and 
felt no lack of amusement, and no unpleasant 
restraint in the matronage of Mrs. Mortimer. 

They were not idle, even at the seashore, 
for Jenny’s sketch-book was rapidly getting 
filled, and some of Kuth’s soldiers’ socks 
looked nearly ugly and large enough to be 
finished. Then there was the blind fisherman 
to read the Bible to, and the poor widow 
whose only son had sailed over the waves, 
and never come back to her. There is no- 
where lack of work for willing hearts and 
ready hands. 

What are you doing, reader? Have you 
yet asked the Lord, what he will have you to 
do ? If there seems to be no work for you 
in the vineyard, then it is time for you to 
seek it. You are looking at the garden of 
some one else, perhaps, where the vines are 
not pruned or the weeds cleared away, and 


Newport, 


205 


have forgotten the condition of your own. 
Beware lest while you are the keeper of 
other vineyards, you may have to report 
to the judge at the last great day, ” mine own 
vineyard have I not kept.” 

'Twas a sultry morning in the early part of 
September; Euth and Jane were preparing 
to go down to the beach with a party of 
friends, for an ocean bath, when the advent 
of the postboy occasioned a great commotion. 

"Here's a letter in a big yaller envelope 
for somebody,” cried out the postboy. They 
gathered round the boy to see, when Arthur 
Heaton cried, "Why, Miss Jenny, I do be- 
lieve it is for you ! ” and added laughingly, 
as he handed her the letter, "are you sure 
this correspondence is within your mother’s 
knowledge ? ” 

" Why, here’s one for me,” exclaimed 
Euth, " and it is from Will ; I am so glad ! ” 

" Here comes the omnibus ; who is ready ? ” 


2o6 His Jewels. 

called out Mr. Heaton. "'Are you going, 
'Miss Campbell ? ” 

"Well, no ; I think I will not now ; I will 
go next time.” 

" I wish that old postboy had kept away, 
until we got back,” he exclaimed ; " we shall 
not have any fun now.” 

"Much obliged to you,” said Euth, laugh- 
ing, as she ran up-stairs. 

She found Jenny putting on her bonnet. 
" Jenny, tell me who is that letter from ; if 
you do not think it rude in me to ask.” 

" It was from Jack Eooney, and you may 
read it if you like; good-bye, I must not 
keep the others waiting,” and Jenny ran 
down-stairs. 

Euth locked the door, and sat down by 
the window with the letters in her hand. 
She hesitated as she took up her brother’s, 
and murmured to herself, " These war-letters 
are so dreadful, I never know what to ex- 


Newport, 


207 


pect. I (Doulcl not have gone with the girls 
this morning, not knowing what was in it ; 
I hope they did not think me unkind. Poor, 
^ear Will ! I wish he could be here to go. 

“Aug. 31, 1862. 

”MyEuthie Dear, — The battle is over, 
and out of our brigade of 1500, only 600 
responded to the roll-call yesterday morn- 
ing. They are not all killed and wounded, 
for some were stragglers, and some were 
taken prisoners ; and thank the Lord for us 
both, my little sister, that he has spared my 
life ! They call this Pope’s famous retreat ; 
it is curious how much talk is made ^bout 
a splendid retreat when an army suffers 
defeat ! 

”We had a terrible battle. The enemy 
fought from behind stone walls and trees, 
while we had to fight in the open field, and 
take the whole force of their fire. At one 
time I thought we were to be successful. 


208 


His Jewels, 


We drove back the enemy’s left, and should 
have come in for a glorious victory; but 
alas ! it was the old story. Our reinforce- 
ments did not come ; but fresh troops 
poured in upon the rebel side, and at- 
tacked our worn-out men ; so we were 
obliged to retreat, or have our whole army 
cut to pieces, without any gain to our cause. 

"One of our regiments were firing into 
the woods, upon the supposed rebels con- 
cealed there, when the attacked called out, 
'Don’t shoot here! you are firing on your 
friends I ’ and then, all of a sudden, came a 
terrific fire from them. If they were our 
friends, deliver us from our enemies I Sat- 
urday, we heard the rebels were retreating, 
but soon found, to our dismay, that it was 
ourselves who were on the retreat. The 
fault is not with the men, but with the 
leaders ; I am right tired of a war carried 
on in such a way. My only hope is in 


Newport. 


209 


God ; and I try to feel that he knows our 
sorrows, and cast my burden on him. 

"One of my greatest comforts is, that 
there is a little sister praying for me at 
home. Poor Jack Rooney is taken pris- 
oner ! He had his arm shot off, and fell 
intp the enemy’s hands. I hear rumors of 
great cruelty to prisoners, but I trust they 
are unfounded. He was a brave boy, and 
his comrades all speak well of him. 

" I have not • told you about Herbert 
Wharton. He has come out on the Lord’s 
side, and his light shines far and wide among 
the soldiers. They all loved and honored 
him before, but now I think many of them 
would gladly die for him. After the defeat, 
when we were all. tired out, and could hardly 
urge our tired horses and weary feet along, 
he commenced singing the hymn, " All hail 
the power of Jesus’ name!” You know 
what a rich, powerful voice he has ; and 


210 


His Jewels, 


then some others joined in, until finally 
nearly the whole brigade. It was wonder- 
ful to see the efiect. It carried them back 
to their homes and Sabbath-schools, and, for 
a moment, they forgot their weariness, and 
sang with a will. I have never had that old 
tune thrill me through so before ; it was 
better than any war-song I ever heard, for 
cheering the soldiers’ spirits. Some going 
by on an ambulance turned their heads to 
listen. Sing it to your harp at home, Euth, 
and think of us soldier-boys as you sing. 
Eemember me to all our friends, and tell 
Jenny I am very much interested in hearing 
about her sick people. Kiss Johnny for me, 
and tell him it is not so much fun to be a 
soldier as he seems to think. 

"Your afiectionate brother, 

" William Campbell.” 

Euth laid down her brother’s letter, and 
sadly took up the other : — 


Newport, 2 1 1 

” Dear Miss Mortimer, — I hadn’t no 
one else to write to, and I wanted some 
one to write to so much, I thort as you 
used to talk to me kindly sometimes, I 
would write to you. I am not used to 
writing; so I beg you to overlook all the 
foiits of my letter, as you have done those 
of the writer sometimes. I felt so solemn 
when I went away, not to see you ; but Mss 
Euth was verry kind, and she give me the 
Testament. I thort I shood like to look at 
the outside of it, but newer care to reed 
it; but one Sunday I was feelin’ sort of 
homesick like, and I thort I wood look in- 
side of it ; and, oh ! Miss Mortimer, I can’t 
tell you the half of the good it has done 
me. Since that I haint left off a reedin’ 
of it for a single day. Ther was so much 
in it, I herd you and Miss Euth tawk 
about to home. I newer mean to say no 
more prares to the saints, but to the blessed 
Lord himself. 


2 1 2 His Jewels, 

"We are a-comin’ near the old Bull-Eim 
battle-feeld, and some of the boys say we 
may get into anuther battle here. K I get 
killed, Miss Jenny, please let a little thort 
fly to my soldier’s grave ; and if I am 
woonded, let a little prare go up to the 
bloo skys for me. I did not think to write 
so much. With respekt, 

" Yor obediant servant, 

"John Eooney. ” 

"Poor boy,” said Euth aloud; "may the 
Heavenly Father keep him. Why, it is 
time for the bathers to be back. I must 
be ready to give them a welcome. So she 
laid down her letters, and arranged her dis- 
ordered dress ; then went out on the piazza 
to knit on her soldiers’ socks, and watch for 
their return. 


Chaptek XXIII. 

MUSIC P THE AIR. 


“The devil always flies from music, especially sacred music, because 
he is a despairing spirit, and cannot bear joy and gladness.” 

— Martin Luther. 



rOW, Kuth, please tell me what your 
brother said in his letter? I think 
you are very cruel to keep me waiting till 
after dinner.” 

" I am sorry to tell you, Jenny, that a part 
of the news is not good; poor Jack Kooney 
is taken prisoner.” 

” Why, Euth, how dreadful ! Is it really a 
fact, and can there be no mistake about it ? ” 

” Willie says some one saw him taken pris- 
oner; but you can read the letter, if you 
like.” 

Jenny took it, and sat down to read on a 


( 213 ) 


214 


His jewels. 


low seat at Euth’s feet. Her fac^ grew more 
and more sober, and she read more and more 
intently, until she had finished it ; then, with- 
out speaking, she went to the window and 
stood there looking out. Euth knew Jenny's 
temperament too well to intrude upon her, 
so she did not speak, but kept quietly on 
with her work. But Jenny did not stand 
meditating long ; she took down her palette 
and put up her easel, and sat down to paint. 
She did not speak, but mixed the colors in an 
abstracted way, that showed her mind was far 
away. Painting was Jenny's favorite resort 
when weary or suffering under some excite- 
ment. "It always rested her mind," she said. 

Euth kept on knitting by the window, 
quietly humming a low song. There is a 
great deal in adapting ourselves to other 
people's moods ; and in this Euth and Jenny 
fully understood each other. It needs a 
knowledge of the human heart to do this, 


Music z the Air, 


215 

and the best way to learn that is to study 
ourselves. 

Jenny at last broke the silence. "Euthie, 
please tell me if this sky looks right. It 
seems to me that the blue is a little too cold, 
and needs some warmer- color.” 

Euth laid down her work, &nd went behind 
Jenny’s chair to get the effect. ”I think it 
would be rather better, Jenny. I think the 
sky is purpler than most people realize. The 
other night, just after the moon rose, long 
before dark, the sky was a real purple by it, 
do you not remember ? ” 

"Yes, I do ; will you please hand me the 
Vermillion ? ” Euth reached her hand up on 
to the shelf to get it, when down came a 
glass covered with paints that had been put 
in water for keeping. 

It so happened it fell on Jenny’s dress. 
Jenny laughed as she looked at Euth’s de- 
spairing face. "Nevermind, Euthie ; I can 


2I6 


His Jewels, 


get it all out with turpentine. You will have 
a sweet scent in the room for a while, that’s 
all.” 

"I believe I never saw anybody like you, 
Jenny. Here is the turpentine, and here are 
some clean cloths. If you had dropped my 
paints, I should\ave made a great fuss about 
it.” 

Jenny looked up with a gentle, sad’ smile, 
and said, '^Yes, that would have been so like 
you, Euth,” and then added, as she rubbed 
the stain, "I have learned the little good 
I have, if any, from somebody who has blue 
eyes and brown hair.” 

" Do you not remember, Euth, how very 
cross you were when I dropped your bird- 
cage,” added Jenny. 

" Oh, that was not any thing, I could afford 
to laugh at that, for it was not at all injured 
— but your dress — do you really think it 
will come out ? ” 


Mtisic 'C the Air. 


217 

"Why, yes,” replied Jenny, holding it up 
to the light ; "I can hardly see it.” 

" I wonder if I shall ever be as brilliant as 
you are,” queried Euth. 

"Well, no, I am afraid not,” said Jenny, 
laughing, "but perhaps you can approximate.” 
Then as she saw Euth seemed to take her in 
earnest, she added, "Different gifts, you 
know, that is all. Do you not remember 
that time I tried to learn to sing, and how my 
patient teacher had to give me up finally, in 
despair ? Didn’t some one knock ? 

Euth went to the door, and a little voice 
squeaked out, "Please, miss, my mother has 
sended you them flowers, thinking as how you 
might like ’em. She’s been a tooken care on 
’em for weeks, and now she says she hopes 
you’ll except ’em with her complemints.” 

" Why, Willie ! did you bring them all 
this way yourself? ” 

" Yes, I did, miss, me and another boy.” 


21 8 His Jewels. 

'' I wonder if you like cakes and candy, 
Willie?” 

” I liked ’em the last time I see ’em, miss. 
I hain’t had none this good while.” 

Euth went to her drawer a minute, then 
coming hack to the little scarecrow at the 
door, said, "There, little hoy, there are some 
cakes and some candy for you and the other 
hoy, and here is a little picture-hook; can 
you read ? ” 

"I read some, miss, and some I doesn’t. 
I likes pictures, though, first-rate,” he said, as 
he took the hook. Then as he put a piece 
of candy in his mouth, he said, "I know 
what I heard somebody down-stairs say about 
you.” 

" Oh, never mind that, Willie ; you mustn’t 
hear what other people say when they are not 
speaking to us. I’m very busy just now ; 
you must come and see me again. Tell your 
mother, the flowers are very sweet, and I 


Music z the Air, 


219 


thank her very much and shall come myself 
to thank her again for them. Good-bye, 
Willie.’^ 

” Good-bye, miss. They said about the 
same of you as you said about them flowers. 
Please forgive me, miss, but I couldn’t help 
telling yer, no how. I was afraid you’d think 
it was somethin’ bad, and it might trouble 
yer.” 

” You mustn’t tell people such things, 
Willie ; it makes them vain, and vain people 
are cross, sometimes. Good-night.” 

After tea, Ruth and Jane were sitting out 
on the piazza as usui^l, with their friends, and 
were talking over the events of the day, when 
some one asked Ruth to sing. They brought 
out her harp for her, and she was trying a few 
chords, when Jenny said to her softly, "Ruth, 
won’t you sing 'All hail the power of Jesus’ 
name ? ’ and tell them first about the soldiers 
singing it ? ” 


220 


His Jewels. 


This was the first time Jenny had referred 
to William’s letter, and Euth readily assented. 

Her little white fingers wandered over the 
harp-strings, and her clear sweet voice rose 
and fell on the air in sweet cadences, while 
the far-off murmur of the sea added its base 
accompaniment. Truly it seemed as if all 
things praised the Lord. ” The sea is his,” 
and murmured its song of adoration to its 
Maker. 

Every other verse they sang as a chorus. 
The older people, who had been in the draw- 
ing-room, glided to the doors and windows, 
to catch the sweet tones, and the servants 
paused in the hall with their dishes half-wiped 
in their hands. Even the greyhound laid 
himself down at Euth’s feet, and looked up 
in her face as she sang. 

It was not the music aloiie. The words 
called back to many of them old home-scenes 
and mothers’ gentle faces, and the thought of 


Music i the Air, 


221 


the soldier-boys far away, who had sung it, 
and loved it so much. Then again it was 
so difierent from the light meaningless 
songs which are generally sung at such 
places, that the charm of its novelty at- 
tracted them. 

When their voices died away, and the last 
echo was lost in the sounding sea, they did 
not urge her to sing again, as they always 
had done before, but they kept silent, until 
Mrs. Mortimer said, — 

" It is too grand to have any thing after 
it. I could not enjoy any thing else now.” 

"When did you learn that. Miss Camp- 
bell?” asked a very fashionably dressed 
young gentleman, who stood leaning against 
the pillar by her side. " I never remember 
to have heard it before.” 

Euth looked up in a little surprise at this 
question, and then said softly, as she al- 
ways did when she alluded to either of her 


2 2 2 His Jewels, 

parents, "IVly father taught it to me many 
years ago.” 

” Many years ago,” he repeated. " I never 
remember hearing a young lady use that ex- 
pression in regard to herself before.” 

fear I do not follow the young lady 
models in every respect,” responded Kuth. 

” A model has no need to copy a model,” 
said Mr. Atherton in a low voice. 

''Mr. Atherton, I thought you knew per- 
sonalities were not agreeable to me,” an- 
swered Euth, as she started to go into the 
house. 

"I wish I knew what was, though,” he 
replied, as he moved away from the door 
to let her pass. 

Euth found Jenny in the drawing-room, 
where she was sitting half shaded by the 
heavy folds of a curtain, and took a seat 
by her side. 

A few moments after, two loud voiced. 


Music z the Air, 


223 


gaudily dressed young ladies entered the 
room, and went up towards the piano. 

"I declare,” said one, "if that Ruth Camp- 
bell hasn’t got entirely round that handsome 
Atherton, I am mistaken. She wouldn’t sing 
the other night when he wasn’t here. She 
knows how to play her cards well. Say, 
Samantha, did you ever hear me sing 
knew a maiden fair to see’?” 

"No, I never did. Wont you let me 
hear it?” 

She sat down to the piano, and commenced 
singing in a loud unmodulated voice, while 
her friend stood by her to turn over the 
leaves. 

As Ruth heard this unexpected remark, 
the color mounted to her forehead, and she 
motioned to Jenny to leave the room with 
her. 

The girls were so absorbed in their sing- 
ing, that, to Ruth’s joy, they left unperceived. 


2 24 Jewels, 

When they were up in their room, Euth 
exclaimed, — 

”I do not like this house. I hate this 
fasliion and conventionalities. I wonder if 
we could not get some quieter place ? ” 

”What did those girls mean, Euthie? I 
never heard of such a comical idea in my 
life.’’ 

” I don’t know, I’m sure. I suppose they 
judge others by themselves.” 

"Well, Euth, I am glad to hear you say 
something uncharitable. It is the first time 
I ever did in my life, and almost began to 
think you would die, you were so good.” 

"You remind me,” said Euth, "of the 
character in one of Dickens’ works, who had 
those six ugly children who used to sit all in 
a row, and have their hair braided down in 
long queues, and how she burst out crying 
one day as she looked at them; and when 
asked the reason of her tears, said, 'Oh, 


Music z the Air, 


225 


they are so beautiful, I am afraid they wont 
live.’ I am sorry, though, that I said that 
about those girls. I think that youngest one 
is really very good-natured, and she is so 
kind to her little crippled brother.” 

”Euth,” said Jenny, suddenly, ”what a 
pity to have all this come after that hymn ; 
I wanted to go to sleep with the music still 
in my heart.” 

"I’ll sing 3mu to sleep, Jenny, if you 
would like to have me.” 

” O, Euth, I wish you would ! ” And 
when Jenny had laid her head on the pil- 
low, Euth commenced to sing, beginning 
with a joyous Christmas carol, gradually 
softening her tone, and then sang a low, 
plaintive song; and as she had finished, 
she looked up at Jenny and saw that she 
was fast asleep. 


15 


Chaptek XXIV. 


WHAT IS WORTH LIVING FORt 



“ What, my soul, was thy errand here ? 
Was it mirth, or ease ? 

Or heaping up dust from year to year ? — 
Nay, none of these ! ” — Whittier. 


ISS CAMPBELL, I am so thankful 
you asked me to go to the prayer- 
meeting with you, the other night ! ” 

"Why, Fanny?” said Kuth, as she looked 
down into the young girl’s face. 

"Because — because, L think I love Jesus 
better for it.” 

"Is it really so, Fanny? I am so glad 
and thankful to hear you say so ; you could 
not have told me any thing that would have 
given me more joy\ How long have you 
loved him?” 

"After the meeting. Miss Euth, I could 


( 226 ) 


Wkat is worth living for? 227 

not throw off the sense of my sins, and 
they almost overpowered me. I thought 
of the other girls who were there, who 
prayed so earnestly, and seemed so happy, 
while I had to be silent ; and then I thought 
of Jesus and the judgment, and how gladly 
he would receive them, and then how he 
would be silent when he looked at me. 
And oh ! Miss Kuth, it was more than my 
heart could bear; and I went and locked 
myself up in my little ropm, determined to 
seek the Lord ; and he heard me, and since 
then I have been so happy ! ” 

” What was your first feeling, Fanny? ” 
"My first thought was, I want to tell 
everybody what a Saviour I have found, 
that they may seek him too.” 

"And have you told anybody, Fanny?” 
asked Euth. 

"Yes; I have told a few, but I cannot 
make some of them think as I do.” 


2 28 His Jewels, 

" That is so hard ! I have felt that trial 
sorely myself ; but you must pray and wait, 
plant and water, and then, by and by, God 
will give you the increase.” 

” I am so sorry you must go. Miss Camp- 
bell,” said Fanny Alden ; " it makes me so 
glad to have some one like you to talk to.” 

Kuth paused a moment, with her hand 
on the garden gate. ”Wont you come in, 
Fanny ? ” 

"No, I thank you; I cannot possibly to- 
day. But, Miss Kuth, before you go, wont 
you promise to pray for me, that I may 
not look back after putting my hand to the 
plough ? ” 

"Yes; with all my heart, I will,” replied 
Ruth . " Go od-by e , Fanny . ” 

" Good-bye, Miss Kuth,” and the fairy 
little figure tripped down the street. 

Newport pleasures were over for the sum- 
mer, and Kuth and Jane were back in their 
old home. 


What is worth living for? 229 

Miss McFlimsey had been boarding a 
month in Newport; she had been to a ball 
nearly every other night, and had had troops 
of admirers at her feet. Even a young lord 
had requested the honor of visiting her at 
her house in town. She had worn the hand- 
somest diamonds of the season; and her 
satin train had been , the admiration of all 
the white-muslined maidens. Her servants 
and equipage were among the finest on the 
avenue ; and she had on the whole a most 
charming summer, — ” Quite worth living 
for,” to use her own words. So she left 
Newport with her servants and horses and 
ten trunks for New York, to be prepared for 
the coming " season ” in the city. 

Before she left, the elite of the fashionables 
crowded round her with lavish compliments ; 
the servants bowed respectfully, and stood 
aside as she passed ; and the waiters seemed 
all legs and arms. When she left, the fash- 


230 


His Jewels, 


ionables said, ”01i, what a relief! we shall 
have some peace, now that parvenu is gone ; 
and what a vain thing she is.” And the ser- 
vants laughed and chuckled over their gold 
dollars in the kitchen, and decided that their 
bows had paid well. The young lord told 
the story of his new acquaintance at the next 
club-dinner, and the people laughed, and pro- 
posed the parvenu’s health. This was the 
end of the successful summer. This was what 
Miss McFlimsey thought worth living for. 

Before Ruth left Newport, she went to say 
good-bye to her friends. In an old brown 
cottage, with a small garden of vegetables 
in front, lived the poor widow Rufh had 
searched out. Thither • she wended her way 
the afternoon before she left. She sat down 
by the old woman and talked to her of 
Heaven, and read her the description of the 
heavenly city in the last of Revelation. 
The woman sat with her knitting on her 


Wkal is worth living for? 231 

lap, and a calm, happy look on her face, 
as Kuth read ; then, when she talked of her 
lost sailor-hoy, Ruth comforted her with 
the heavenly promises. 

When she rose to go, the poor woman fol- 
lowed her to the door,' and held her hand for 
a long time, and looked up tenderly in her 
face, as she said, "The Lord sent you, dear 
young lady ; it is the Lord who takes you 
away. I must abide his will.” She watched 
her till she was far out of sight, and then 
went back with a deep sigh to her little 
lonely room. 

From there Ruth went to the old blind 
fisherman’s hut. He was ill to-day ; for his 
fishing tackle hung twisted by his door. 
Ruth knocked gently, and, hearing the weak 
" Come in,” entered. 

"Ah, I know your step, Miss Cammel ! 
I know the way of the craft although I 
cannot see the figgerhead.” 


232 His Jewels, 

"And how have you been, Mr. Caxton, 
since I was here?” asked Euth. 

"Oh, poorly, poorly, miss. I hears the 
sea rushing, and the waves beating, and I 
knows they are full of fish ; but I have to lie 
here. I wandered out a week ago, and felt 
for my tackle, and sat on the rocks ; but the 
wind blew cold and gave me the rheumatism, 
and I caught no fish, and came home sick.” 

" I hope it will not be long,” replied Euth ; 
"the weather is getting better, and I think 
you will soon be out again.” 

" That is what I tried to think, miss, but 
my boat is pretty old ; it has stood a good 
many rough seas, but will not bear many 
more. Tm coming into the haven ; I am get- 
ting my anchor ready, and I shall soon be 
home. Yes, truly, it will be fair weather 
soon. Wont you be so kind as to read me 

t 

a little, to-day, miss, in the good chart? ” 

Euth took the well worn leather-bound 


What is worth living for? 233 

book, and read the story of Christ walking 
on the water. 

” Oh, yes,” said the old man, as she closed, 
”and I can see him; I can’t see you, nor 
nobody else, but I see him a coming over 
the waves to me. He has said, 'Peace, be 
still,’ and I fear not the storm, for there is a 
rainbow to-night. When will you come 
again ? ” said the old man, as she rose to leave. 
” I miss you when you are long coming.” 

” I am going home to-morrow, and I came 
to bid you good-bye.” 

" Good-bye I and must another star be put 
ofit that was to brighten my way into port ? 
But never mind ; old Paul is almost there. 
You will be there too, sometime; I thank 
the Lord for bringing you to me.” And so 
Kuth left the fisher-hut, with the old man’s 
benediction on her head. 

As Euth was getting ready to go, the next 
morning, she heard a little knock at the door. 


234 


His Jewels. 


and opening it, found her washerwoman there 
with her little boy. 

"Miss Campbell, I hope you will forgive 
me, but my boy said he couldn’t let you go 
off without seeing you, and he sat up till ten 
o’clock last night, makin’ some molasses- 
candy, he said he was going to bring you,” 
and she handed Euth a little basket, and 
lifting the cover of white paper, disclosed 
the yellow candy. 

" Why, Willie ! ” exclaimed Euth, " did you 
make this? It is the best I ever saw.” 

The boy blushed and said, "Yes, ma’am; 
but I made it for you and that other young 
lady.” 

His mother laughed and said, "Yes, she 
kinder took notice of him the other day.” 

Jenny came and looked at the candy, and 
thanked the boy, and they both bade them 
good-bye. 

" I feels dreadful bad you’re going,” said 


What is worth living fori 235 

the woman, turning back; "I’ll never forget 
them good words you said to me, Miss Camp- 
bell, and I hope if you ever come back, 
you’ll let me do your washing for you, again.” 

'' Oh, yes, I certainly will,” said Euth, 
smiling, and went back into her room. 

"Jenny, it does not seem to me I have 
done half as much as I might this summer, 
but it is so good to have the love of these 
poor people. I think it makes one happier 
than all the flattery in the world.” 

Then Euth and J enny went down-stairs ; 
the carriage was at the door, and but a few 
of the people came to bid them good-bye. 

Euth did not mind the slight ; she had 
given " the cup of cold* water to Christ’s 
little ones,” and verily she had her reward, 
and that was what she thought was worth 
living for. 


Chapter XXV . 


THE NEW BIRTH — ANOTHER JEWEL IS FOUND. 

“ God was made flesh, and dwelt with man on earth ! 

Blood holy, blood divine, for sinners shed ! 

My asking ends, but does not make my wonder more j 
Saviour of men ! henceforth be thou my theme ; 

Redeeming love my study day and night, 

Mankind were lost, all lost, and all redeemed.” — Pollok. 



lUTH, will you please fasten this 
bracelet? I fear we shall be late. 
Mollie Kendall is to be married at twelve, 
and it is nearly half-past eleven now.” 

Euth and Jane were preparing for a wed- 
ding of one of their young friends. • They 
were both in white ; Jane had white cainel- 
ias in her hair, contrasting with the jetty 
braids, and Euth was adjusting pink roses 


among her golden curls. 


" There, that will do, Euth. What a 
charming day it is ! it seems to me as if 

(23G) 


The New Birth, 


237 


every breath were joy on such a day. Why, 
there is a ring at the door ! I hope nobody 
has come to make a call. Where is that 
pair of white gloves ? ” 

” Why, it is the postboy ! Bridget, what 
is it ? ” 

” It’s a telegram, miss ; and the boy 
wanted me to tell you it was bad news 
before you opened it.” 

Kuth took the telegram and went back 
into her room. With a silent prayer she 
opened the envelope. 

" The battle of South Mountain is won ! 
Wharton is killed. I am all right. 

”Wm. Campbell.” 

The paper dropped from Kuth’s hand, and 
Jenny stooped and picked it up. She looked 
at it with a bewildered look a moment ; then 
her face grew as pale as death, and she 
dropped the paper as if it were a hot coal. 


238 


His Jewels, 


She tried carelessly to unfasten the lacing 
of her boddice, but she suddenly stopped; 
her eyebrows contracted, her lips quivered, 
and she threw herself on the bed in a tor- 
rent of weeping. 

Euth looked up in surprise, for she had 
never seen Jenny show so much emotion 
before. The truth suddenly flashed on her 
mind. ”How stupid I have been not to 
have realized this before ! Why was I not 
careful to tell her gently ? ” 

In a few minutes, as the violence of Jen- 
ny’s grief abated, Euth went to her and put 
her arm around her. 

"Poor Jenny!” she whispered. "Jesus 
will help you bear it.” And as she spoke, 
her own voice trembled. 

Euth silently unbound the roses from her 
hair, and unfastened her bracelets. Jenny 
looked up as she was doing it, and mur- 
mured, in a broken voice, — 


The New Birth, 


239 


"Ruth, don’t stay at home for me.” 

"I don’t care to go at 4II,” replied Ruth. 
"I could not be happy thinking of you at 
home all alone.” 

So the wedding garments were put away, 
and mourning came, instead of the oil of 
joy, and ashes for beauty. It was a long, 
sad, dreary day. Jenny came down to tea, 
and tried to eat; but the food seemed to 
choke her, and she finally had to leave the 
room. 

So the days passed; and Jenny’s face 
grew sadder, until, one day, there came a 
little* gleam of sunshine. It was in the 
shape of a little Testament, bequeathed to 
her by her soldier friend, accompanied by 
a kind little note from William Campbell, 
which contained the particulars of Whar- 
ton’s death, and the dying request that 
Jenny wDuld read it for his sake, and try 
to love the Saviour whom he had loved, and- 


240 His Jewels, 

that they might meet at last together at his 
feet, to praise their Redeemer’s name for- 
ever. 

Jenny took the little Testament to her 
heart, and determined to study it faithfully, 
and try to love it for the Lord’s sake. One 
evening, she sat up reading it later than 
usual; she had begun the story of the 
crucifixion. She was seated in her little 
room, by her dressing-table ; a small shade- 
lamp threw the light over her book, and 
her head rested on her hand, while her 
abundant dark hair hung like a curtain 
about her shoulders. She was entirely ab- 
sorbed in the story, and did not even notice 
Ruth’s going in and out of the room. As 
she came to where the people cried "Away 
with him ! ” her tears fell thick and fast on 
the holy Book, and she shuddered when she 
read of the men looking on him whom they 
had pierced. As she closed the book, she 


\ 


4 




Jenny at the foot of the Cross. 

His Jewels.— p. 342. 


The New Birth, 241 

sat still a few moments, thinking ; then she 
rose and prepared to retire. , 

Her body sank into an uneasy sleep, but 
her mind was still active. She dreamed that 
she was with the people at the trial of Jesus, 
and that her voice mingled with those who 
cried ” Away with him ! crucify him ! ” then, 
that she watched him, with the others, as he 
hung on the cross, and heard his gentle voice 
as he spoke to his mother, who stood weep- 
ing beside his cross. And then she turned 
to one of the people beside her, and said, 
"How can he be the Son of the living God, 
when he has not power to come down from 
the cross?” when, oh, terror of terrors! 
the dying Christ had heard her; words, and 
looked at her, such a sad, reproachful look! 
And then it came over her what she had 
said, and she was struggling to hide her 
face, when she suddenly awoke. The sun 
had risen, and was shining into her roomj 


16 


242 His Jewels, 

but she could not at first realize where she 
was. Finally, it all came back to her ; it 
was only a dream. But she reasoned with 
herself ; My life has not been a dream ; it 
has been a mockery of my Saviour. She 
could not sleep ; so she rose, and, putting 
on her wrapper, kneeled down by her bed- 
side and bowed her head and closed her 
eyes. Then she thought to herself, "What 
am I doing ? am I wild ? This is only suf- 
fering man, only a martyr to a good cause. 
Why do these thoughts thrill my whole 
being ? ” 

Then the hill seemed to rise again before 
her sight, and the three crosses dark against 
the sky, and she looked again at that middle 
cross. The sad face seemed still bent upon 
her. Suddenly the face lighted up as with 
a glory, and she heard the voice of one of 
those crucified with him, saying, " Lord, 
remember me when thou comest into thy 


The New Birth. 243 

kingdom ; ” and then the sweet voice of 
Jesus answered, "To-day thou shalt be 
with me in Paradise.” And the glory 
faded, and the air seemed full of darkness. 
In despair the weeping girl cried, " O Jesus, 
remember me ! Thou art my Lord and my 
God.” And then came a still voice through 
the air, " My child, I have loved thee from 
the foundation of the world ! ” 

Then over her whole being came a feeling 
of perfect trust and peace. She rose from 
her knees, and, looking up to the blue sky 
beyond the fleecy clouds, said aloud, " I 
begin to see him as he is ; I will give my 
life and my lalents all to him; it is the 
least that I can do.” Then she opened her 
Bible to the story of Christ’s resurrec- 
tion, and her face beamed with joy as she 
read of his appearing to the repentant Mag- 
dalene. She had read it before, but it did 
not seem like the same thing; she had 


244 


His Jewels, 


thought of it as a solemn lesson, to be 
read in church on Sundays, but to-day it 
seemed all for her. She was just reading 
the story of the ascension, when there came 
a little tap on the door, and Kuth looked in 
with an anxious face. 

"Jenny, love, I thought you were ill. I 
heard you up so long ago. What have you 
been doing ? ” 

Jenny rose and threw her arms around 
Euth’s neck, and wept, and with broken 
words told her the story of her dream and 
her waking. 

" I was ill, Kuth,” she said, as she finished ; 
" my whole head is sick, and my whole heart 
faint. The great sorrow came you know 
that I had dreaded; it seemed like a wave 
that was to overwhelm me ; but it has only 
borne me on its breast to Jesus ; and I am 
glad it came. Any thing would seem light 
now ; I love him; and he has received me.” 


The New Birth, 


245 


Ruth’s tears mingled with Jenny’s, and 
together they poured forth prayers of thank- 
fulness to him who had redeemed them ; and 
Ruth thought to herself, as she left her, 
truly, ”He that goeth forth weeping, bear- 
ing precious seed, shall come again with re- 
joicing, bringing his sheaves with him. I 
will tell Fanny this, and it will help her 
along.” 

So Ruth did not forget to speak often to 
those who loved the Lord, and the Lord 
promised to "write the names of such in 
the book of his remembrance.” 

Henceforth a bond united the two girls, 
Ruth and Jane, stronger than any that had 
bound them before, and together they went 
forth as sowers of the word. 

The veil had fallen from Jane’s eyes, and 
she saw "God manifest in the flesh,” and 
received the atonement as her hope in glory. 
No more trust in works that she had done. 


His Jewels, 


246^ 

but faith in the risen Eedeemer as the pro- 
pitiation for her sins. 

"Except a man be born again, he cannot 
see the Kingdom of God.” 


Chapter XXVI. 


BE WATOBETS OVER BIS OWN. 


“ I have read the fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel ; 


As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal. 
Let the Hero bom of woman crush the serpent with his heel, 
Since God is marching on.” — Mrs. Howe. 


CUP of cold water, please, sir!” 
The speaker was a boy of about 


eighteen. A few rags of blue flannel and 


a torn shirt clung, dirty and damp, around 
his well formed but emaciated body. His 
eyes were dark blue and piercing as they 
protruded from their sockets. His hair, 
which had once been brown and curly, and 
stroked by a mother’s loving hand, was 
matted to his head, and no distinct color. 
There were crowds of others like him, all 
herded together like sheep in the old tobacco 
warehouse. 


( 247 ) 


248 


His Jewels, 


The air was stifling and full of gi-oans and 
misery. Who are those men and boys? 
What dreadful crime have they committed ? 
Have they been traitors to their country 
and their friends? Have they murdered ‘the 
innocents, and robbed the widow and the 
fatherless, to. for ward their own designs? 

Some of the men are over there beneath 
that dirt-begrimmed window looking at a 
little piece of cloth in a little book. One 
poor boy cries as he looks at it, and others 
are talking earnestly. What is it? 

It is red and white, and is striped, and 
there are some stars in the corner of it, and 
the book it is in is a Testament, and herein 
we may find the causes of the treatment of 
these men. 

They have been fighting for their country, 
for which their fathers died ; for the same old 
flag for which they fought, and for the prin- 
ciples contained in that little book ; and for 


He Watcheth over His Own, 249 

this they are crowded together in this black 
hole of death ; for daring to defend the right. 
Martyrs in a sacred cause ! 

But who is this asking for water? He 
looks pale and feverish ; surely he will not 
be denied, for there is plenty of water out- 
side, and the fountains are playing a little 
way off in those gardens. 

"You’re a green one. Jack,” called out one 
of the men. "I should a-thought you’d 
found out before this, that cold water wasn’t 
the fashion. Ask him for a glass of sherry; 
you’ll be about as apt to get it.” 

The keeper had turned away, without heed- 
ing the boy’s request. The boy’s face flushed 
a little, and he started angrily to spring at 
his throat, but he was gone, and the poor boy 
only heard his mocking laugh as he went 
down the stairs. He looked wildly about 
him for a moment, like an insane man, then 
with a low laugh like the echo of that on the 


250 


His jewels. 


stairs, stretched himself out on the filthy 
straw beside him. 

Poor Jack Rooney ! It is but . a little 
while, comparatively, since you rode down 
Beacon street on your prancing black Rover, 
the air full of music, the fl^ags waving and the 
bright faces beaming down on you from the 
balconies. But a little while since Ruth 
Campbell gave you that kind good-bye, and 
you took the Testament — Miss Mortimer’s 
gift — from her hands with such a proud 
heart. It is only two years, poor boy, since 
that battle-morning when you brightened up 
your arms, and went into the cavalry charge 
with a wild hurrah, the young blood boiling 
in every vein. A new career seemed opening 
before you; with your sabre you were to 
cut through the social cords that bound you 
down, and rise a hero ; and now it has come 
to this — a few rags and a heap of straw, 
sickness, hunger and want — almost an 
idiot boy ! 


He Watcheth over His Own, 251 

There is something in his hand that he 
clasps tightly. It is dark now, and he cannot 
see the letters, but he mutters to himself 
parts that he has learned. Oh, those long 
dark nights in prison, who can picture their 
horrors? Sleepless and hungry, crowded 
together like animals, only less cared for, — 
it was enough to try the faith of the 
strongest saint. 

Morning dawned, but no sunbeam fell on 
the floor in this prison house. It was a 
damp rainy day without, and oppressively 
warm and damp within. 

”Come, boys,” shouted one who was a 
new-comer, — the rest had long ceased such 
shoutings, — " breakfast time ; up with you I ” 

One poor boy, who had been dreaming of 
home, jumped' suddenly up, " Buckwheat 
cakes, mother,” — then he came to himself 
and slunk wearily back on to his straw, hid- 
ing his face in his hands. Some of the 


252 


His Jewels. 


others tried to get up a, laugh at his expense, 
but it was like joking at a funeral, and they 
gave it up. 

They had no breakfast this morning but 
ice- water, as one of the prisoners called a 
decoction of warm water and mud that looked 
like coffee. 

Poor Jack drank it eagerly. A few months 
before, it would have made him sick, but now 
he was getting used to it. 

No supper, no breakfast, but a dinner of 
very doubtful-looking pork and a hard piece 
of corn bread about as large as the palm of 
his hand. They tried in vain to occupy 
themselves during the day. One of the 
men had half of an old greasy pack of 
cards, which some of them tried to get 
excited over, but found it rather hard 
work. Another had three or four cop- 
pers, which went the rounds at different 
winnings. One man, who was getting half 


He Watcheth over His Own. 253 

foolish, entertained the company with stories 
sometimes ; but his jokes were getting as 
weak as himself. One of the men would 
try to save a piece of his hard bread, and 
give a quarter of it one day, on condition of 
having half a one the next ; and some were 
hungry enough to promise this. 

One day, when they had had nothing to 
eat since the night before, a gay ly -dressed 
rebel officer entered the room. 

" Hurrah, boys ! rather close quarters here. 
Any of you as will gO and fight with me shall 
have his regular rations, and his clothes, and 
a good tent besides. Who’ll go ? ” 

The men looked at one another in surprise. 
" Think the rebel army must be pretty hard 
up, to try to get us,” said one. 

'’No time for jokes, boys,” said the lieu- 
tenant, a little nettled; "I’ll give you two 
hours to think of it ; ” and so he left, and his 
sabre clanked against the stairs as he went 
down. 


254 


His Jewels, 


" Feller-Sogers and Bredering,” said fool- 
ish Samuel, getting ready for a speech, 
moves we don’t move. It’s had enough here, 
hut I wont he a rebel ; oh, no ! ” and he be- 
gan to sing " Glory, hallelujah ! 

"I declare,” said one, "Sergeant Greene 
looks as if he were considering the matter.” 
All eyes were tmmed on the sergeant as he 
rose. 

"Fellow-comrades, you compel me to tell 
what I had hitherto resolved to keep secret. 
I came here, as you know, a week since; 
and I trust the small knowledge you have of 
me is all that could induce you to doubt my 
loyalty. On my way here, one of the rebel 
captains was particularly kind to me, and 
told me in confidence that we were to be 
released about this time.” 

The words were no sooner out of his 
mouth than he was interrupted by a cheer ; 
and the men, who, a moment before, had 


He Watcheth over His Own. 255 

looked as if they were dying, looked as if 
they were well again, and ready to make a 
cavalry charge. Just then the door opened, 
and the gaudily-dressed officer entered again. 

"Well, hoys, are you ready to go with 
me? Plenty to eat, plenty to wear. I 
heard you cheering, and I suppose you 
have decided to come. How is it? Let 
all those ready to take the oath stand forth.” 

To the rebel’s surprise, not a man moved. 

" Perhaps you want longer to think of it. 
How soon would you be ready to go ? ” 

” Never ! ” answered all voices together. 

Then the promising look of the officer 
darkened. " Planning some mode of es- 
cape, I suppose ; have to tighten your 
defences, I reckon, and take away a little 
more of these creature comforts,” he added, 
j)ulling a ring off the hand of the man next 
to him, the only one which had escaped the 
rebel notice. 


256 


His Jewels, 


The man glowered upon him, but no one 
dared to attack him ; for the revenge, alas ! 
would be on all their heads. 

" I don’t know very well what more you 
could take from us,” added one, " unless you 
skin us.” 

The lieutenant did not answer, but stood 
twisting the ring on his little finger. It was 
the ring Mary gave the young soldier the 
day they were married in the little church 
at home. He had it in his mouth when 
he underwent the search before entering the 
prison, and he had hoped to keep it now ; 
but a fly had bitten his face, and as he 
thoughtlessly raised his hand to brush it off, 
the glitter had caught the rebel’s eyes. 

The man looked at him a moment. His 
face darkened; it was more than he could 
hear^ and he rushed at the officer to force it 
from him. The fellow laughed mockingly, 
and gave a short whistle. In a moment 


He Watcheth over His Own, 257 

three muskets were pointed at the prisoner ; 
and the lieutenant tossing the ring out of the 
window, said, coolly, ” There, that quarrel is 
easily settled ; ” and then adding to the pri- 
soners, ”I am glad you are all so well satis- 
fied with your quarters,” left the room with 
the other soldiers. 

A week passed, but no orders came to 

r 

move, and the men in their weak condition 
were easily discouraged, and about giving 
up all hope, when one morning they were 
ordered out. The rebels said they ”had 
been kept long enough, and they might as 
well go home.” 

Even the sickest then found strength to 
crawl outside, and start on the march. They 
were under guard of a strong detachment of 
mounted rebels. They seemed to be going 
a very circuitous route toward the North. 

The second night came on. Jamie, a Scotch 
lad, turned to the others and said, "Boys, 
17 


0 


258 


His jewels. 


we are na follerin’ the gucle North star. The 
rebels have deceived us.” And so it was ! 
The captain laughed when he saw the men so 
furious, and said, " Oh, it was only a joke ! ” 

" Only a joke ! ” and there lies poor Fred 
Hastings dead. The march has been too 
hard for him. He does not care for Mary’s 

ring now ! He is past all sorrows. And 

m 

there are two or three more ” giving out” 
now. It was easy enough to keep up with 
the thought of home ; but now all exertion 
seemed useless. 

Poor Charlie Howard, he has fainted now, 
and the rebel cavalry come marching on, and 
the horses’ hoofs crush his thin hand as it 
lies outstretched on the ground. ” No 
orders to carry dead ones,” and on they dash. 

Poor widowed mother in New England, 
kneeling by your soldier-boy’s bedside, pray 
on ; you have need to pray, for the light of 
his blue eyes is fast fading out. And "it 


He Watcheth over His Own, 259 

was only a joke ! He would not have lived 
long any way.” The rebel soldiery do not 
offer to lend their horses to the fainting men, 
Avho are walking barefoot before them. 

They have at last reached their destination. 
It is a stormy night. Where is the shelter? 
Nowhere, only an old cattle-pen ! And the 
men are driven in where hundreds of others 
are herded together, quarrelling and fighting 
and dying by the score. 

A weary march it had been, and poor Jack 
Kooney had kept up with the thought he was 
going home. His intellect was too much 
weakened to understand the rebel joke, but 
to-night he comprehends it. His feet are 
torn and bleeding, and his back blistered and 
sore, only half covered by his torn shirt, and 
now, there is no shelter for him. 

He can cool his burning back on the chilly 
swamp land, though there is no supper for 
him. He can have some, though, if he makes 


26 o 


His Jewels, 


a fire, but there is no wood. They have 
given him some meal or bran, but the others 
will not let him cook it by their scanty fires, 
and so he eats it raw. He sits there on the 
wet ground, the rain pouring down on him, 
his hair hanging over his face, a dull vacant 
stare in his eyes, eating his handful of meal, 
and laughing to himself. In one hand he 
holds his Testament — what there is left of it. 
But here comes a rebel officer ? 

” Why don’t you cook your supper with 
that ere book? ’T would kindle right smart.” 

" Supper ? ” said Jack ; ” me no supper — 
where supper ? ” 

" In your hand there, lazy coot,” and the 
man seized the book from his hand, and ap« 
plied a match to it. 

Jack’s mind seemed to return for an 
instant, and with flashing eyes he rose to his 
feet. " Take that book at yoiir peril, sir,” 
he muttered between his closed teeth. 


He Watcheth over His Own, 261 


" Ah ! making believe idiot, was yer ; down 
with yer. I was going to teach yer how to 
cook yer supper, but I guess I wont waste 
no more on yer. Here, Daniel, take this fel- 
low and put him in the corner of that old pen, 
there.” 

" My book,” said the boy, struggling in the 
arms of the negro, who dared not disobey his 
master. 

The book lay burning on the ground. 
" What do you want with books ? you can’t 
read.” 

" My book ! ” screamed the boy ; but the 
man did not stir, and seemed to take pleasure 
in tormenting him. 

The negro started to rescue it, for the rain 
seemed to deaden the flame; but the rebel 
bade him in a stern voice to be oflT and obey 
his orders. The old negro groaned, and tak- 
ing the boy in his arms carried him away to 
the small pen in the farther part of the ground. 


262 


His Jewels, 


The boy was light and easily carried. The 
momentary hash of intellect had passed away, 
and he lay weakly in the man’s arms. The 
negro took off his own coat and laid it on the 
damp ground, and then laid the boy tenderly 
on it, and as he looked at him, soliloquized, — 

" Poor boy ! he done gone foolish. Ole 
Daniel do all he can for him ; wish he could 
take him to Dinah ; she’d know how to fix 
him up right smart ; but lor ! what could 
any body do for him in .this*yere hole.” 

Jack looked up in the kind dark face bend- 
ing over him, and murmured, ” You give me 
supper ? ” 

” Supper, bress yer, ole Daniel didn’t hev 
none hisself ; folks mighty close, down yere ; 
but pray to the Lord, boy. He’ll help yer. 
He’s helped this yere old man heaps o’ times 
when he thought he was all gone.” 

"Where the Lord?” muttered Jack, as he 
rested his large mournful eyes on the negro’s 
face. 


He Watcheth over His Own, 263 

"Whar the Lord?” repeated the negro, 
and muttered, as he turned his head aside to 
brush away a tear, " What hard questions the 
boy asks.” And then turning to the boy 
said, " Me nobody but ole Daniel ; me dunno 
whar the Lord is ; but me know when me 
pray, he come right down to whar ole negro 
is; and if yer pray, he’ll come right stra’ 
down to yer.” 

The boy groaned, "Poor Jack wants some 
supper ; ” and then feeling about on the 
ground, said, "Where Jack’s book?” 

"What do you stand fooling over that 
Yankee for, you black coot?” said Daniel’s 
master, who had just come to see if liis order 
had been obeyed. 

"Oh, massa, me thinks he’m most dead. 
Can’t ole Daniel bring him some o’ the crusts 
as was leff from massa’s table? Me think 
the dogs haint got em yet.” 

" Off with you, you sneaking black sheep. 


264 


His Jewels, 


We’re ruining ourselves now with the money 
we spend on these wretches.” 

The old negro went slowly off, his master 
behind him to stop any retreat. He looked 
back once at the boy and groaned, but an ad- 
monitory kick served to turn his head back 
again. . 

"Massa can’t help me prayin’, no how,” 
Daniel thought, as he was kicked into his hut 
for the night. And the rain ceased, the stars 
came out, and the moon shone down on that 
little hut, and the old negro knelt there by 
the little window, praying with all his might 
" for the poor soger-boy as don’t know whar 
the Lord is.” 

It is midnight now; he rises from his 
knees, looks at Dinah a moment and sees she 
is fast asleep, then he emerges from the hut. 
He goes stealthily up to his master’s quarters, 
enters the open door and hears the sound of 
the noisy bacchanal in the room above. He 


He Watcheth over His Own, 265 

goes stealthily into the supper-room, and tak- 
ing half a loaf of bread, puts it in his pocket, 
and goes quickly and lightly out of the house, 
through the yard, and then down near the 
stockade. But how is he to pass the guard? 
— he had forgotten that. ” God help me ! ” 
he murmurs, and the sentinel is asleep. He 
passes by him, and in a moment is where he 
left the boy. 

The boy seems to be sleeping, and there is 
a smile on his face. "Dreaming of home, 
me thinks,” said the old man, and he stooped 
to raise his arm, but it was stiff; and then 
he bent his ear to his face- — there was no 
breath there, and his face was cold as ice, as 
he lay there in the light of the moon. 

The old negro started back, and the tears 
rolled down his cheeks, as he murmured, 
" Bress the Lord ! he no more need olo 
Daniel’s help now.” 

No, kind old man, he needs it not, "For 


266 His Jewels, 

the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne 
shall feed him, and shall lead him unto living 
fountains of water ; and God shall wipe away 
all tears from his eyes. He shall hunger no 
more, neither thirst any more, neither shall 
the sun light on him, nor any heat.” 

It is not so easy to evade the guard now ; 
he is awake, and the negro is carried to his 
master for punishment. 

” Fifty stripes,” said the young man, as he 
tossed the red wine down his throat; ”and 
don’t bring me any more such cases, or I’ll 
give you fifty more yourself.” 

” Fifty lashes ! ” and the old man is lying 
bruised and sore in his little hut. 

Never mind, we cannot help him; and 
he is one of the Lord’s veterans. He is 
there with him ; for, in Daniel’s own words, 
”when he’m pray, the Lord come right down 
to whar ole negro is.” 


Chapter XXVII. 



JENMT’S DIABT. 

“ For one poor flower of thanks to thee, 

Thou showerest down all night to me 
Lilies of heayen.” 

“May 1st. 

WAS looking out of Ruth’s window 


this morning ; the wind was blowing 
hard, and tossing about the great branches 
of the trees, and such a sad, sad feeling 
came over me ! How can I endure this 
cold world, these stormy winds, and all the 
sorrows that may be before me, with the 
memory of the joys that are past? Then 
there came through my soul, sweeter than 
any strain of music I ever heard, the words, 
'He shall cover thee with his feathers, and 
under his wings shalt thou trust ; ’ and all 
my melancholy passed away. It was like a 
voice from heaven. 


( 267 ) 


268 


His Jewels, 


*'I wrote ill my journal yesterday, 'Life 
is all made up of clouds and showers, and 
death is the rainbow at the end, through 
which we pass to the sunlight beyond,’ but 
I do not feel so to-day ; God has put some 
of heaven’s sunshine into my soul. 

"It is at last decided I am to have the 
house I wished for my little hospital. I 
have four patients in mind now who will 
be removed there as soon as the house is 
ready. My life will not be quite like what 
I used to fancy ; but God has marked it out 
for me, and I am willing and glad to spend 
and be spent, or bear any thing, if he only 
receive me at last. Miss Crosby is to help 
me, and a great many kind friends have 
given me money to start with, and the 
promise of more. The thought of Helen 
helps me on. There will be one angel at 
least to watch over us. 

"The parsonage is being remodelled. It 


yenny s Diary. 269 

looks so cosey and homelike beside the ivy- 
mantled church.# Euth thinks so, too. I 
am glad my mother is to be with me in the 
hospital ; she can do so much better than I 
in almost every thing. I shall still keep up 
my painting, it is such a comfort to me in 
more ways than one. 

" Jerry Shaw has bought his mother’s cot- 
tage for her, and is coming home soon to 
live with her and take cjiarge of the little 
farm. Euth says her brother William is 
going to study to be . a physician, and is 
to make his home in the far W est when the 
war is over. Johnny Williams came in this 
morning; he goes to the High-School next 
year, and feels very large in view of his 
new honors. I believe he has given up the 
idea of being a soldier since poor Jack’s 
death. I am so glad I gave him that Tes- 
tament, poor boy ! I wish I could thank 
that old negro who was so kind to him I 


270 


His Jewels, 


But it is getting late, so I must not write 
more to-night. Good-nigl^^, little stars and 
little round world ! Good-night, birds in 
your nests and children in your beds ! 
'Peace on earth and good will to men.’’^ 


Chapter XXYIII. 


TWO ARE BETTER THAN ONE. 



“For the happy hour that waits 
No reproachful shade shall bring, 

And I hear forgiving Fates 
In the happy bells that ring. 

Leave the song that now is mute, 

For the sweeter song begun ; 

Leave the blossom for the fruit, 

And the rainbow for the sun ! ” 

—Bayard Taylor. 


iING out, joyous chimes ! Peal your 
merriest wedding-bells ! — for to- 
day, two young pure hearts are to be mad9 
one. Two of the Father’s children are to 
unite their lives to do his will, to follow him 
hand in hand. 

” And who is to become a bride to-day ? ” 
croaks an old beldame, as she pauses on her 
cane before the church door. 

"Don’t you know?” queried the child in 
surprise. "I thought everybody knew Miss 
Kuth.” 


( 271 ) 


272 His Jewels, 

The old woman bent her head a little 
nearer. ” Tm a stranger in the town, child; 
who is she?” 

The child looked up wonderingly. "I 
don’t know who she is, or I don’t know how 
to tell it, but I know she’s my Sabbath-school 
teacher, and she’s the dearest, sweetest lady 
in the world, except mamma.” 

” And who is she to wed, my pretty child ? ” 
croaked the old woman again. 

” If you mean marry, she is going to marry 
our minister, and I cannot stop any longer, 
for mamma says I must not talk to people I 
do not know ; ” so the child ran on, and the 
old woman stalked along with her cane, until 
she met a boy. 

wonder if everybody does know that 
Euth,” she croaked; ” say, boy, what time is 
the wedding to be, and are there to be fine 
doings ? ” 

"She’s to be married at twelve, and it’s 


Two are Better than One, 273 

going to be splendid, so all the boys say,” 
and the lad went on. 

” Well, I guess I’ll sit on one o’ the grave- 
stones an’ watch. I kinder want to see that 
Miss Ruth everybody talks about ; ” so the old 
woman adjusted her red cloak, and sat down 
on a stone to watch. 

Two children went by chattering like two 
magpies. ” I say, Carrie, are you going to 
wear a blue or a green sash? You know we 
are all going to dress in white, but we can 
wear what color we like with it.” 

” Well, I think, Annie, that I shall wear 
klue, but I am not quite sure. Mother has 
some pink in the house, and I may have to 
wear that ; but if I do. I’ll have myrtle on 
the sleeves and pink roses to match.” 

" Oh, that will be beautiful,” said Annie, 
beginning to skip about. '' And we are all 
to sit one side of the broad aisle, all us Sab- 
bath-school children, right where we can see 
the bride when she comes in.” 


2 74 


His Jewels, 


”It seems so funny, Annie, to hear you 
say the bride, for I always think of her as 
Miss Euth.” 

"Well, she is the bride any way,” persisted 
the little girl ; " and she’ll make a real sweet 
one too ; my mother says so ! ” 

"Wont it be funny! she’ll be the 'minis- 
ter’s wife.’ ” 

" You seem to think she can’t be any thing 
but Miss Euth. I suppose it is because you 
are so young makes you feel so.” 

Annie was just one year older than Carrie, 
so it happened. 

"Well, good-bye, Annie, I must go in 
now, for I don’t want to be late a minute.” 
So the children parted. 

" Say, Aunt Nancy, mayn’t I wear my white 
dress? all the other girls are going to.” 

Can this Aunt Nancy be the Miss Hawkins 
we met so long ago? Did she have those 
brown curls round her face, and that gentle 


Two are Better than One, 275 

smile? Did she allow the front window 
blinds to be open on week days? and did 
she have those crayoned faces of happy 
children- hanging on the walls? Did she 
have the flowers picked out of the best front 
garden and brought in to ” litter up her best 
room?” Well, no she didn’t, but she does 
now. She has "changed” her mind about 
some things, and " children will be children, 
you know ! ” 

"What do you want to wear white for? 
It will get all soiled up, and not be fit to 
wear Sunday.” 

" But, Aunt Nancy, now mayn’t I, please ? 
I should look like a crow among the others 
if I -didn’t ! ” 

Miss Hawkins’ eyes twinkled as she an- 
swered, "Your white dress is all ready for 
you, and is on your bed upstairs.” 

"Why, Aunt Nancy, what a dear good 
auntie you are ! Why didn’t you tell me 
before I ” 


276 


His Jewels. 


” I thought I would surprise you, Mollie ; 
but it is time to get ready. Eun upstairs, 
and in a little while I will come up and help 
you.” 

And in a few minutes the patient aunt 
went up to her little niece, and sat there for 
half an hour, hooking and buttoning and 
tying a string here, and making a bow there, 
and smiling all the time at the odd little 
movements and quaint fun of the child. 

" There, auntie ; hark ! I am sure I heard 
the bells ringing the second time. They 
were going to ring twice, you know, and 
we were to be there the second time.” 

"Well, Mollie, I believe you are all ready 
now, and I will put on my bonnet and go 
along with you.” 

"Why, Aunt Nancy, I thought you said 
you did not care for weddings?” 

"I don’t think much of them generally; 
but this is the minister’s, you know ; so it is 
different.” 


Two are Better than One, 277 

” I am so glad you are going, auntie ; ” and 
so the two went down the street together. 

The bells are pealing merrily; the chil- 
dren in white are on either side of the car- 
peted way up to the church, and the people 
are gathered about on every side. The chil- 
dren’s eyes suddenly brighten, and the people 
instinctively turn their heads, for there come 
the prancing white horses. Now they pause 
before the church, and the driver opens the 
door, while a boy holds the horses. 

First out step the youthful bridesmaids 
and groomsmen, then the second carriage 
comes up, and the coachman draws in the 
reins and the eager horses pause. 

” It’s Miss Euth, now, any way,” says little 
Annie Turner to her older sister. 

Hush, Annie ! don’t speak so loud ; the 
people will hear you. There, they are com- 
ing ! ” The youthful pastor steps from the 
carriage and reaches his hand to the bride, 


278 


His Jewels. 


who steps lightly on the carpet. Her veil is 
over her face now, but does not hide the 
flush on her cheeks, or the gleam of golden 
hair beneath the hazy white. 

The children scatter flowers in her way, 
and she presses them with her feet as she 
passes on into the church. Then the organ 
sounds, and the bridal party pass up to the 
altar, while the children follow, and other 
people. The wall behind the pulpit is cov- 
ered with climbing ivies, and every nook 
and crevice is wreathed with lilies. 

Jenny is one of the bridesmaids. Her 
face looks pale and sad, but calm and gen- 
tle. The aged minister who is to perform 
the ceremony is the father of the bride- 
groom, and his hoary head contrasts with 
the dark hair of his son. Euth lifts her 
veil slightly, and the service begins. As 
Ealph Stedman promises to keep her until 
death parts them, his voice slightly trem- 


Two are Better than One. 279 

bles. Death seemed so far from that sweet 
face so full of life, that he had not thought 
of it before. But as the minister makes the 
closing prayer, and the prayers of all the 
people — young and old — go up to heaven 
for the loved pastor and his bride, his heart 
is strengthened, and the momentary chill 
passes away. 

The service is over, and the children come 
to bid farewell to their pastor and his wife, 
who are to leave them for a short tour to the 
West. 

” Good-bye, Miss Ruth,” says one little 
cherub face, as she puts up her rosy lips 
to' be kissed. 

« Why, Annie ! it isn’t Miss Ruth now ; 
it is Mrs. Stedman.” 

The little girl looked up wonderingly in 
the gentle face, and then, as she passed on, 
said to her sister, — 

"Well, Clara, I couldn’t help it; I’m real 
sorry I said it ! ” 


28 o 


His Jewels, 


Euth caught the words, and, turning 
around, called the child to her. 

" It is no matter, Annie ; I am just the 
same, and you can call me what you like.” 

The good-byes are over, and the bridal- 
party go down to the carriages in waiting for 
them. 

Captain Campbell is home on leave, and 
the children’s eyes are divided between him 
and his sister. 

It was a bright, happy scene, full of sun- 
shine and flowers, gentle faces and kind 
words. It was a sacred scene too, for they 
were both consecrated to the Lord’s service, 
and it was in the temple dedicated to Hirh. 

Farewell ! we too must say farewell, 
bright, happy Euth ! You are in the hands 
of one who loves you above all others on 
earth, and you and Ealph are both in the 
hands of One who never slumbereth or 
sleepeth. ” Speak ye often one to another,” 


Two are Better than One, 281 


of the love of God, and labor earnestly for 
the perishing souls about you, and by and 
by, when the labor is all done, the jewels 
cut and polished by earth’s cutting tools, in 
the care of the Master Workman, then your 
names shall be written in the book of His re- 
membrance, and in the day when he maketh 
up His Jewels, you shall be His ! ” 



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